


Fatum Lamarium

by NerdetteLove



Category: Twilight Series - Stephenie Meyer
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Drama, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Sexual Content, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-06-24
Updated: 2012-06-24
Packaged: 2017-11-08 11:09:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 35,977
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/442561
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdetteLove/pseuds/NerdetteLove
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A vampire film star, a human librarian and a paranormal phenomena. When a vampire finds his mate, how possessive will he become? Past horrors, a little boy and a destined romance come together to tell a tale of the joining of two broken souls.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Preface

.Preface.

Our destiny is predetermined.

Set by the Gods above, not to be meddled with or changed. We are merely a mortal human with our life being oh-so fragile and delicate.

We cannot change destiny; we can try to control it and hope to guess what it is... However, in truth we will never know, and will always be blind.

We are controlled by destiny, against our wishes and hopes.

We have a path; a path we are hopeless to follow.

I have a destiny; a destiny I intend to fight against.

I am Isabella Marie Swan, the girl fighting for my life with every waking breath.

The battle has only just begun...


	2. The Library

*^* Fatum Lamarium *^* ~ Nerdette Love

.Play List.  
The Only Exception by Paramore  
Clair Du Lune by Debussy  
Save the World by Swedish House Mafia

~Chapter One~

.The Library.

BPOV

My life is mundane and boring. It's not filled with excitement and fun, it's simple, and that's the way I like it. My life reflects my species — we are far from unique — the only special trait we can bring to our name is the astonishing capabilities of our bodies.

The brilliance of the human mind and body, the way in which we can defend ourselves from infection and how our brain interprets information. Still — our lives, no matter how much we may say otherwise, are not filled with wonder and excitement.

We move from one day to the next, always in hope of something new; that something that never comes.

For many, their greatest hope for life is to become rich and famous. It's something that grows and festers in our brains from early childhood. A dream for some, a reality for others. There is also the alternative, marrying somebody rich and famous in order to further our own claim to fame. Neither appeal to me, as I am one of those countless few who doesn't care.

If I achieve fame and wealth then I will not be disgruntled, but it's not an ambition. And my heart is already full with love — my love for all things literature. Try as people may, the world of film and television have never appealed to me, and the power of words is entrenched in my heart.

Another hope, being part of the female population, is to mate with a vampire. I said the word; it's out. Vampire. The paranormal does exist. Dracula and his ilk however, no longer reside only in novels: they rule our lives. The paranormal is all around — well vampires at least; they are the common in today's society. Although I don't come across many of them, most are rich, famous and have a well established power line within the world.

So mating with a vampire is every girls' dream, except for mine. I see them as something to avoid. You see, it's females they mate with, as it's been discovered we can carry their children; we can make a hybrid child between us, part human, part vampire. Although, the birthing process alone could lead to our deaths, with the vampire spawn eating us from the inside out. If we're lucky enough for our vampire to fully love us as an equal mate, they may turn us. If not, we'll die from loss of blood and a battered, broken body after the events of pushing out a rabid leech.

Sucking blood, never sleeping and endless amount of time stuck with one person who can control your every movement. It doesn't seem all that appealing when one puts it into context. Such a nice way to live.

Vampires like control, and that's no different in regards to mating. Male vampires are controlling, dominating and down right scary. I've never seen a mated female without her mate; it's an impossibility.

Not only because the human becomes a love- sick puppy that jumps as high as the vampire wants her to, but the vampire won't allow his mate from sight. I say my existence is boring and mundane, but I'd rather live my life in simplicity than have it watched and monitored by the entire vampire population.

I have nothing against the vampire world, and to even say I did, would leave me in an extremely tricky situation, as I would be persecuted by the vampire population for going against them. I'm just not ready to be a statistic and I don't think I ever will be. Nor do I want to marry and be a happy housewife. I want to be an independent woman with a successful career.

I hope to be a writer, not just somebody who shuffles books in a library for her day job. I love the job now, it's just not a lifelong career. I also, really hate my boss. He's a vampire, bitter and resentful to the whole world, vampires and humans alike. He isn't one of the successful ones, he's the director of a library. He makes my life a living hell.

I count myself as lucky because I only work three days a week and the occasional evening. The rest of my time is split between college and the foster home where I help teach the orphans to read and write. I wanted to be able to share my love for literature with those less fortunate, so three nights a week I head down there to sit with the children.

Sometimes I read to them, sometimes I help them read and sometimes I teach them to write. It makes me feel so much better when I see their faces light up as we delve into the magical world of a book together and experience an adventure far away from the dank, dull walls of the foster home.

Not only is it their escape, but also mine. It is my chance to get out of my life even just for a short time, the power of words, enabling me to no longer feel encased in reality and the realm of existence. This was something that nothing other than a book could give me.

Tonight is one of those nights; after I finish work I will go straight there, skipping tea to sit with the children. Tonight I will bring sweets for them that I picked them up on my way to work.

We plan to read Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire because the children adored the first three books and had been pestering me to read the next one over the past few nights. I can't resist their sweet little innocent faces, and to know I bring them pleasure from simply reading makes me feel elated.

I turn back to the computer to scan the last book on the large stack of returns back into the system. It takes the old, outdated computer several minutes to process the return, and when it does, the computer seems to let out a sigh. I pat the screen affectionately.

"All done."

Talking to my computer is probably insane, but it keeps me entertained. I have nobody here to talk to, and as much as I love my books, sitting and scanning them onto a computer is not my favourite activity. I haven't spoken to many people today, and it's a rarity that I do, but I enjoy the peace, quiet and solace that the library offers me, as well as the decent amount of money it provides to keep my rent up.

I take in the library for these few moments: the big wooden desk that curves around before me, the sets of wooden tables and plush chairs, placed just before the doors, and the numerous large, tall and fat wooden bookcases that line the walls.

It's filled with books: old and new, worn and torn, the fusty smelling ones, those well creased spines and thumbed pages. I love an old book; the whole feeling of having something old in your hands. Then, the new books with the fresh scent and pristine white pages — still as enchanting.

There are some out there who don't quite care for a book, preferring their new e-readers and kindles — such horrific inventions — to a good book in one's palm. It's an unforgivable act to purchase such a device.

I turn to the large pile of books, now stacked on the desk, and pick up six or seven, needing to be placed in the classical section. I know I should use the trolley, but I can't be bothered to go into the office and face James.

He'll most likely be in a foul mood, and it's my life's mission to avoid him as much as physically possible. After all, it's only six or seven books; I can't do much damage with them.

A quick scout around and I see no sight of James, so I pick up the books and manoeuvre myself around the desk with a surprising ease. After all, my middle name might as well be "clumsy" because I can barely walk five metres without face planting the floor. My acquired gene, of being unable to remain upright, is certainly unfortunate; it means I am incapable of being lady like. I continually find myself in awkward situations because I can't walk without tripping over air or my feet.

I shuffle carefully around a table and see him. A fairly tall guy, walking in through the entrance.

A black hoodie covering his body, the hood pulled up over his hair and partially concealing his face. He has a pair of expensive looking sunglasses, covering most of his upper face. He walks with an almost predatory edge, each long stride taking him further into the library.

His very presence screams danger, with his back sightly hunched and his hands stuffed into his pockets. I ca see that he's trying to avoid attention, and any other person would usually pass by without my knowledge. Yet, this total stranger has drawn me into his trap, and I am helpless to follow.

Luckily, he's heading in the direction of the classical section, so I have a reasonable excuse to follow, as not only do I have my books, but I'm required to tell him to remove his hood. This is something, I am not particularly looking forward to asking him to do. He's one of those people who looks like they may eat you alive on first glance.

I take a deep breath, lift my shoulders and shake my hair out so it falls around my face — after all, a girl needs something to hide in if the situation turns nasty. Making sure I have a secure grip on the books, I march down after the man, following as best I can, knowing he went somewhere in the direction of the classical section.

I know it seems that I am making a judgement based solely upon appearance — something I hate to do, even though it's human nature. One cannot deny that many a time, we make assumptions at first glance. However, I find it hard to not prejudge a tall man, dressed in a large amount of black. The same one I'm currently following into a deserted part of the library, alone, with my only form of self-defense occupied with a load of books. Not one of the smartest decisions I've made in my existence. But what's the worst he can do, kill me or bite me?

My stomach rolls at the thought: I didn't even take into consideration the idea of him being a vampire. I shudder, but continue with my quest, until I feel something heavy land on my shoulder, preventing me from continuing forward.

I let out a squeak and jump into the air in fright.

"Why are you following me?" a deep, husky voice asks. I let out the breath that I had been unintentionally holding. I feel my hands shake.

"I wasn't," I manage to reply, my voice barely audible. I'm surprised he can even hear me.

"I'm not stupid, so answer my question." His voice is deeper and rougher, almost a growl.

I feel extraordinarily vulnerable with my back to him and his hand applying a harsh amount of pressure into my shoulder blade.

"You need to remove your hood Sir," I squeaked. Then I bit down on my lip, to try and think of something else other than the excruciating pain in my shoulder.

"Oh." The voice behind me turns lighter and I feel the pressure on my shoulder relax before being removed completely. I sigh in relief and I feel my body sag a little. I know it's the perfect opportunity to turn around, so I do because he's receded from my personal space and removed his hand, that had been restricting my movements, it leaves me free to move around. Stepping away from the stranger quickly and taking in his now furrowed eyebrows and frowning lips.

"Can you please remove your hood, Sir?" I say again. My voice stronger, yet it still sounds like that of a child.

"Sure. I'm sorry, I didn't realise. Did I hurt you?" For some bizarre reason, I feel the need to lie. I don't know why, but I can't look away.

"No, I'm fine," I say, and I amfeeling fine, except I know I'll have a bruise there in the morning.

"Good." He nods his head and his hands move up to pull back his hood, allowing it to drop away and reveal his hair. It's a brilliant bronze that shimmers even in the dull light of the room. Seeing it makes me wish my hair could be something other than dull, mousy brown.

Then I take in the style a messy disarray of strands, it looks like he's just had incredibly hot sex, and I feel the heat rise to my cheeks at thinking such a thought. I allow my gaze to linger on his hair for a little longer than socially polite as I think about running my fingers through the thick locks and kissing him senseless. I blink rapidly, stunned at how a thought of wanting to kiss a total stranger could cross my mind.

My gaze finally drifts down to his lips to see them twitching into a grin rather than a disapproving frown. I don't know how I can tell his eyes are on me, as he's still wearing his sunglasses but I feel them.

His eyes.

Completely and solely upon me, it makes me feel all hot and heated inside, like my insides are about to leak onto the carpet if I don't jump him, immanently. We continue to just stand there, staring. I feel exposed and vulnerable, as though he's mentally undressing me. Now; that thought is totally preposterous.

I want to pull my eyes away and get on with my job, but I am physically unable to do so, and it scares me. He's weaving some kind of spell upon me and I have been thoroughly caught by it.

I feel my grip on the books slipping as my palms become a little sweatier under his intense gaze. I feel them fall from my hands, but it doesn't register in the far depths of my mind, nor does it seem to register with this perfect stranger before me that these books are falling onto his feet.

I blink several times as I feel my eyes start to hurt from refraining to blink. It's as if I don't believe such a man could be placed before my eyes. H has to be a figment of my imagination, but there he stands, still before me, even after I've blinked.

"Isabella?" A stern voice calls to me from behind the man. The voice breaks the magic around us, ending the spell that had been weaving between us and giving me the chance to tear my eyes away from this god. I pull them away only for them to land on a dragon breathing, angry man, also known as my bitter, vampire boss, James. Oh shit! 

"Yes James?" I cringed inside.

"How many damn times do I have to tell you to use the trolley? Now pick those books up and take them back to the desk before they're totally ruined. And stay at the desk. I would have thought a book lover like yourself could take care of a few books." He sneers at me and I feel my insides go cold.

"Yes James." I nod and bend to pick the several books that are now scattered at my feet. I cringe again when I see how I've allowed the books to sit after landing in a in a way that has made them crumpled and bent. I would never allow my books to get into such a condition, but here I am, throwing library books around.

Not only do I feel the anger of James weighing down upon me, but also my own disappointment and annoyance pressing against my conscious. I know now that I'd rather face James' wrath in the office than here, now, because saying he's angry does not even begin to cover it. He's absolutely livid, and I may be just the slightest part scared. I've heard that he's had a little taste of his employees before. I instinctively raise my hand to my neck, wanting to protect myself.

"Isabella, stop stalling, and use both hands to pick up the damn books."

I hunch my shoulders and drop down onto the floor in a scramble to pick up the books, but a pair of pale, large, masculine hands that don't belong to James reach them before I do. I look up to meet the eyes of the hooded stranger.

"Allow me," he says.

"Thanks for the offer, but please, let me, it's my fault, and my job." I plead with my eyes for him to allow me.

I don't want to face more problems with James over letting a client pick up books that were my mess. He seems to understand my need to pick up the books, and nods. He stands, but doesn't removed himself from my personal space. He invades every inch of it, yet I no longer feel threatened. I feel perfectly safe; safe from James, and safe from anything the entire world could throw at me.

I know James will never cause harm to me in front of anybody else. He's actually never touched me before, but he's been in a foul mood all day and I may have just been the person to push thebutton. It would be just my luck that he would end up taking his anger out on me.

After stacking up the rest of the books with shaking hands, I get up onto my feet and pick the pile of books from the ground and scurry off without a backwards glance at neither James nor the stranger. When I reach the desk I feel a wave of relief wash through me, although this doesn't last for long; as I know James will appear in a few mere moments to finish dealing with me.

I place the books down on the desk, back into the place that I'd first started out my journey, beside the piles of other returned books. I make my way around the desk and flop into my chair, feeling defeated and scared. No longer do I feel like the strong, independent woman that I strive to be, but a vulnerable child in need of protection.

Regardless, I'm not a child and I have nobody to protect me, so I'm merely vulnerable and very scared. This feeling doesn't sit well with me — to be afraid of somebody — but James isn't a regular somebody, he's a vampire. He's evolutionary designed to be stronger, harder and much more scary. In a fight between us, I'd be dead within seconds. Not that I intend to get into a fight with James.

I flinch when I hear hands slap down against the desk and I timidly look up into the face of James. His eyes are still angry, but his jaw is relaxed and his lips aren't set in a frown. It raises just the tiniest bit of hope inside of me.

"It seems you have made a good impression. God knows how, Isabella. The man you were just with requires your services and you will stay until you are no longer needed. Do not mess up." He growls and stalks off.

"What's his name?" I call out to James, but he's already disappeared, looking for his next victim to inflict his foul mood upon.

I feel sorry for these potential targets, but I'm not about to go save them. I'm an opportunity kind of girl, and this is one I'm taking with both hands.

I jump up from my chair and scuttle off in the direction of the classical section once again. This time I'm not filled with dread, but more of a queer kind of excitement.

Just as I'm heading into the classical section, I spot a corner of carpet before me that is upturned slightly, but it's too late for my brain to register. My foot catches and I feel myself tumbling through the air, like many other times, regardless of how simple things may seem. I let out a little cry of shock, and yet, I never hit the ground because a pair of strong, firm arms wrap around me and pull my body upright.

I look up into the face of the stranger who seems to have once again saved me, the frown that had been etched on his face has now been replaced by a crooked grin. A grin that makes my knees go weak and my insides go all warm and fuzzy.

Had he not grabbed onto me, I would have fallen to the floor for sure. I was totally out of sorts, and I felt like I was no longer in control of my life. This stranger whose name I did not yet know, has totally tipped my life upside down in such a short amount of time.

"Thank you." I breathe out as he pulls me firmly to my feet. Slowly, and almost reluctantly, his grip on me slackens and I step out of his grasp. I feel almost sad at the thought of no longer being held in his arms—they made me feel secure and safe; such an odd thought for a perfectly random stranger.

"You're welcome," he says, his voice deep and husky. I drop my eyes to the ground, not being able to hold steady against his intensity.

"You need my help?" I squeak again, and if he wasn't standing before me, I would hit myself; I have been reduced to squeaking now. It seems so silly and infantile.

"Yes. You can help me browse for a good book." He reaches out with his hand, brushing his fingertips gently across the book bindings. I can't help but ask the question, it gnaws at the back of my mind. Having little brain-mouth filter doesn't ease my predicament even with James' warning, so I spit it out.

"How do you know I have good taste?" I turn away towards the books as I feel myself blush. I pretend to scan the titles, but the names all blend into one as I await his answer. What I do not expect is his hand upon my lower back.

"I can just tell," he says, his voice even huskier than before A shiver runs through my body.

"What type of book are you looking for?" I gasp. He removes his hand from my body.

"A good one, Isabella." He chuckles. I feel a tingling deep inside of my body as my full name rolls of his tongue, sounding incredibly sexy. Wait... how did he know my name?

Oh. James.

"I'll try, but I'm not promising anything. The classics are good, if you like that kind of thing. Personally, I'm quite the nerdy type of girl; I like my science-fiction and horror, but unfortunately I'm also a sucker for romance." I smile weakly, feeling my stomach clench as the embarrassment floods through me for saying I'm nerdy and I like romance all in one sentence.

"Oh, and please, call me Bella. May I ask your name, Sir?" I sigh, knowing as much as I love the sound of my full name from those heaven-sent, sinfully wicked lips, I much prefer my shortened name.

"None of that 'Sir' nonsense. Bella, I believe you will succeed, if the books you've just categorised are anything to go by. Now, if I tell you my name, promise not to squeal on me."

I turn to him with a questioning brow. "I don't squeal," I say, indignant.

He laughs again with that deep, throaty chuckle.

"I think you do, Miss ...?" He waits for me to answer, and like a horse to water I follow without question and eventake a drink.

"Swan, Miss Swan. And you are yet to tell me your name. Stop stalling." I giggle as I move further into the depths of the library.

I make my way through the rows of high book cases, feeling like any second they will reach out and devour me when we reach the deepest, darkest depths. He follows with a casual saunter and an air of grace and mystery that seem to surround him like a cloak.

"Cullen, Edward Cullen." He sighs as if waiting for an onslaught of screaming. I turn to him, totally unaffected.

"See, no squealing girl here. Not quite the big star you thought you were?"

He looks bemused and confused. "So you've never heard of me?" He seems to want to persist that I should squeal like a young girl.

"No. Should I have?" I pull out a book that juts out amongst the rest. Wuthering Heights.

"Well, I am a Hollywood star." He grins crookedly, again as if expecting the cogs in my head to finally click into place. But today, he has no such luck, as the cogs fail to turn.

"Never heard of you, but it would be highly unlikely that I would. After all, I don't own a TV and I only go to the cinema to see the occasional science-fiction film," I drop my gaze from the perfect creature before me in embarrassment at my admittance of not owning a television. It was something that had never bothered me before and yet, before this man, I feel almost embarrassed that he could be a star and I don't even know who he is.

"Interesting girl you are, Miss Swan. A very unique individual. I can't say I've starred in any science-fiction film, so indeed, it's unlikely that you'll have heard of me. It is a great genre, though. Which is your favourite?" He gives me a cheeky smile.

My cheeks blush under his piercing gaze again, but this time I no longer look away. I hold his stare firmly, trying to see behind the dark sunglasses that cover his face. Wanting to avoid further attention, I question him.

"What, are those sunglasses Gabbana Dolce?" I don't usually take great interest in the world of fashion unless it's a book about fashion, in which case I stillwouldn't be likely to read it.

"No. Ray-Bans." His lips stretched into a broad smile.

"Isn't that just another name for sunglasses?" I feel thoroughly confused now.

This time, he doesn't just smile, he full-on laughs, bending over and holding onto his knees while he lets out a long, deep laugh that resounds around the bookcases.

"My dear Isabella, it seems I have a lot more than just films to educate you on. It's not Gabbana Dolce, but Dolce & Gabbana and Ray-Ban is yet another designer." He shakes his head and takes a deep breath.

That's when I catch the sight of them, those two, long, pointed, canines poking out from between his lips. Or at least I think I do. It's hard to tell when he closes his mouth so quickly.

"Educate me?" I squeak, feeling thoroughly insulted. I try not to dwell on the idea that the man before me is indeed a vampire.

"Indeed, you are innocent to the world." He grins, but does not reveal his teeth. It makes me all the more suspicious that I have a vampire before me.

After all, how could anybody but a successful vampire manage to shut James up and get him to follow orders. I feel a queasiness form deep in the pit of my stomach; vampires have never sat well with me. My own experience with the supernatural creatures is not one I like to recall, and the only other exposure to vampires has been working with James or seeing mated couples fling themselves at one another. Neither enhancing my view of the "wonderful" supernatural. Scary, not being able to make a choice. Mating is scary because it changes things; I don't like change.

Mating is meant to be instantaneous and you know as soon as you see the guy, he's the one. So everything in your life, is down to that one single moment, when it changes. To think, that one person can hold you to the world, so irrevocably, as they are the reason you need to exist. You're built for each other, designed by the Gods above. We didn't have that connection though, so I can put any worries, that this man before me, is my mate, if he's even a vampire.

"Isabella?" His voice calls to me and breaks me out of my thoughts.

"I'm perfectly well educated. I'm studying for a degree." I bark out.

His lips are quirking into a smile. "I never said anything about your intellect, Miss Swan. Merely your view of the world has not been opened up as far as it could and, I intend to broaden that view."

"I know some designers." I defend myself, not wanting to look so naive to the world before this  
god-like man. The word "man" doesn't seem to fit he who stands before me, as he is more than a mere man, he is a magnificent creature. Whether he is good or bad, I cannot tell.

"Care to enlighten me, Miss Swan?" I hear the humour in his voice as he asks.

I feel like a child again, as this time I am the one in class who hasn't been listening and has just been caught out by the teacher when I have no answer to offer. It makes my insides rattle and my inner self rise to the challenge as never before have I not had an answer for a question.

"Converse, Vans, that woman ... Chanel, and there's that guy, McQueen ... or something." I am thoroughly proud of myself for a very short amount of time.

"I see. I have been corrected, marginally. It definitely reflects upon your personality, Miss Swan. It's Alexander McQueen, and he is now sadly dead." He doesn't look at all disappointed by this revelation, although he's probably had quite some time to come to terms with it.

I frown and fold my arms. "What's that meant to mean?"

"Not an insult dearest Bella, merely that your choices in life reflect your personality." He brings out that crooked, knee weakening smile. The one that makes my brains cells turn to goo, and my blood boil. He allows those luscious, plump, peachy lips to stretch further this time and this gives me no doubt about what I saw before. There are fangs. They peek out from his lips and dig into his full, bottom lip. The whiteness of them sparkles in the light and they catch my attention. It means I cannot look anywhere else but at the fangs; I'm entranced.

"You have fangs." I feel my head start to spin as I point at the gleaming, white canines that are protruding out from his upper gums.

"Isabella?" His voice doesn't sound like before. Now, it's high pitched and full of concern, and yet, so very far away.

"What?" I ask groggily but I can't see him before me. He's no longer in my line of sight and as much as I try to see him, I really can't find him.

"Why have you disappeared?" I groan and then I reach out with my hand blindly to try and place where he has disappeared to. My hand comes into contact with something smooth, hard and cool, like a marble statue, but I realise it's his face when I touch something soft, plump and wet.

His lips.

I feel the fang peeking out as my thumb brushes across it. My head starts to swirl again and I quickly remove my hand, not wanting to think about fangs, blood and me being very, very, alone with him.

"I haven't, Isabella. You passed out. Now, can you open your eyes for me?"

"No, I don't want to," I say. Then I attempt to bat away the light that's now blinding me, shining into my eyes with such an intensity that I can't help but try to turn away, but steel girders I recognise as his arms hold me locked in place until I manage to open my eyes.

I am not disappointed. In true Hollywood fashion, Edward is leaning over me, his beautiful, defined face hovering only inches away from mine and his glasses no longer situated on his face, so I am met by the dazzling eyes of this creature; golden eyes that shock me into silence.

I feel like I can see into his soul; it's like we connect on a whole new level.

I blink, and his glasses are once again set in place like they've never been removed. Creating a shield between us so I can no longer see those eyes of his, so I cannot see into his soul and know whether he is good and pure or full of wicked intentions. I have a craving deep within me to gaze upon those golden orbs again. I itch to move my hands up to his face and pull his glasses away. To make him as vulnerable and open, as I am to him.

Golden means good. Golden means good. I repeat the line like a mantra in my head as I try to veer myself away from the verge of hysteria. I'm too close to a vampire, far closer than I'd ever want to be again.

"Are you feeling okay?" His hand moves up to caress my cheek. His touch is cool and it sends a calming warmth throughout my whole body. Meanwhile, my brain is screaming for me to run, to hide, to cower. The heat in my cheek — the spot where his thumb moves back and forth — and rushes out through my bloodstream with a cascading effect, keeping all my nerves on edge and leaving me feeling sinful and alive.

"I'm fine." I frown when I realise that I'm lying horizontal across the floor.

"How did I end up here?" I point towards the ground and recognise I'm in the middle of the two bookcases, flat on my back, with Edward's whole body hovering over me, invading all of my personal space.

"You passed out." He frowns as I make an "oh" sound.

"I've never passed out before. Can you help me up?" I feel entirely awkward in my current situation.

"Of course." He jumps up with a lighting speed and pulls me up in the process. I stumble against his chest due to the extreme force he exerts upon me when drawing me to my feet. He catches me easily and holds me still, stopping me from face planting the floor on the other side of him.

"Quite the clumsy one aren't we, Miss Swan."

I think I hear him say, "You'll certainly keep me on my toes." I can't be truly sure though. I shudder as I step away from him, wanting to put distance between the two of us.

"Edward, are you a v-v-vampire?" I'm afraid of the answer, even though I know the truth.

"Yes, Isabella, and you are my mate." His words are clear, meaning I could not have misheard but still, my mind can't take it in.

"No, no, I'm not," I call out. In blind panic, I step further away, my hands flailing wildly in the air. It only now comes to my attention that I don't know what happened to the book in my hands, but I can't bring it upon myself to care. I'm too taken up with his stark declaration that I could somehow be connected to a creature of my nightmares.

I feel my back hit the bookcase behind me, not having realised I'd moved back so far. I watch in horror as Edward stalks towards me, full of grace, but like a predator to his prey. Him moving closer didn't ease my stomach or fears in the slightest.

"Yes. You are, Isabella. Why else would I save your ass from James?" He growls, and his fangs become larger. They become more pronounced now as they drop down from his closed mouth, resting over his bottom lip and looking incredibly menacing.

"Because you're nice?" I squeak. His arms come up to rest on either side of my head, encasing me against the bookcase. His legs move to either side of mine, stopping all my movement. I feel like a trapped chicken.

In that moment of panic, I do the only thing I can do: run. I pull myself free from his now slackened legs and duck out of his arms. I surprise myself by not falling once, and I take off without a backward glance down the aisles of books, back to the main desk.

I reach the front desk, my brain in overdrive. Diving onto the top desk, I reach over for my bag, and take off again, knocking over many things in my way as I haul the bag onto my shoulder.

"Isabella!" I hear his strong, masculine voice cry out to me. It makes my heart clench just the smallest amount. Something I am helpless to deny as he sounds like he's in pain, but I know I can't look back. I just keep on running, a frenzy of fear overtaking my every thought, consuming me to the point that I don't take in anything around me.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I reach the foster home in senseless time, cutting my ten minute walk down to a three minute run. I thank the heavens for Angela signing me up to the gym and the workouts that I'd recently been putting myself through there.

I slip inside the door of the foster home, glance around and see nobody in sight. Once inside, I relax a little, checking my watch to see that I'm perfectly on time. I can't be sure how long I'd spent with Edward, but it seems that time was literally consumed.

At least I don't have to face the wrath of James for not staying to clear up after work with him, as he is not the understanding type, and telling him I ran from a vampire most likely would not go down well.

"Auntie Bella!" One of the little boys who I spend most nights with cries out from the playroom. A huge grin spread across his little face and his dimples show as he smiles, making him all the more adorable.

"Riley!" I coo. I open up my arms, needing the comfort just as much as he does. He runs forward and launches himself into my arms, and I laugh and stumble slightly as his little body wraps around my own.

He buries his face in my neck and his little hands clutch on for dear life, as though I'm about to vanish. It makes me sad to think this is the most comfort he'll ever receive, and that he'll grow up in the foster home his whole life.

Riley has ADHD – Attention Deficit Hyperactivity Disorder – which makes him hyperactive most of the time, and it puts off most potential families, which is truly sad since he's a brilliant little boy, and when I'm about, he's so good. It's said his mother appeared one night, seemingly insane, and pushed him into the hands of the carers at the foster home before fleeing.

They said she disappeared like she'd never been there and the only thing they recalled was a wild mane of red hair and a locket she left for Riley with a heart and a "R" inside. It breaks my heart to think anybody could ditch such an adorable little boy.

I'd adopt him myself if I had a stable environment and the time to care for him, but being a student, I can barely support myself.

I bring it upon myself to take him out as much as possible and visit as many times as I can, just to make up for my inability in not being able to make him my own. I know I shouldn't have favourites, but he's found his way into my heart and I can't bring it out of myself to take him out. He's my comfort as much as I am his.

With regret, I lower him back down to the ground and his little bottom lip juts out in a pout. I have to hold back the tears at the heartbreaking sight.

"Is it story time tonight, Auntie Bella?" He takes my hand and leads me towards the playroom, a smile now having replaced his sorrowful little frown.

"Indeed it is, Riley." I reach out and ruffle his hair affectionately.

"Auntie Bella!" The chorus goes up around the room as Riley and I enter the playroom.

All of the children, are placed around on the carpet with Charlotte, one of the helpers. I smile at her as all the children come running at me. They fought for a place in line to get a hug, or just to clutch part of me. I bend down with a chuckle and draw as many as possible into a hug. Feeling their little dirt covered hands clutching onto me, I feel centred and calm.

Finally, after a warm welcoming, I make my way to the front of the room where I reach into my bag and pull out the sweets I've bought for the children. I look to Charlotte, who nods her head with a smile.

"I brought you all some candy for being good little girls and boys." I chuck them to Charlotte to hand out as the children make a chorus of "thanks" and "you're the best Auntie Bella!"

I smile in appreciation, knowing that in my heart I feel a little bit of weight lifted from my conscious knowing I can bring joy to others.

I sit down on the carpet, bringing myself closer to the children's height and putting less of a distance between us. I connect to these children and they are why I'm not materialistic — I don't care about possessions because I often see children who have nothing of their own.

I drag my satchel over towards me as the children now all begin to settle down, having grabbed their sweets and grouped 'round on the carpet.

I grab the Harry Potter book from my bag as the children watch in apt fascination, their sole focus upon me. It made me smile, but it made my heart sink at the same time to know something of such insignificance to me as taking out a book could bring such joy to these children.

A lump formed in my throat as I saw how thrilled the children were, at me simply reading them a book and after my emotional day with Edward's appearance, it made me want to burst into tears.

Thinking about his name just set my teeth on edge and induced a feeling of unease in the pit of my stomach. I glanced to the window to check for vampire sighting and to my satisfaction, I found none.

I dropped my head as I turned away from the window, realising how I've turned into somebody from my worst nightmares: not a vampire, but a paranoid, jumpy woman who can't keep herself calm.

I take a deep breath and try to forget earlier incidents. Not an easy feat, but I do try to push the mishap to the back of my mind while I spend my time here with the children. I don't want to taint something that brings such joy to me with thoughts of vampires.

I take a firm grasp of the Harry Potter book and open it to first chapter.

I feel the smile that always appears when I am about to enter the world of the characters spread across my face, making my cheeks rise and my jaw protest a little with the movement. Having spent most of my day frowning or forcing a smile, to be able to smile so freely now is making my body protest.

The children have now captured my attention, meaning nothing can tear me away from our magical time now, not even vampires. I look at the children, and watch their whole attitude change as they see me open the book.

"Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire..." I breathe out the words reverently, trying to infuse my excitement into my voice. All the children gasp in excitement. I lean forward as they try to hear the first few words.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Well, everyone, it's late, so it's time for bed." I sigh as I close Harry Potter at chapter five.

A chorus of sighs, whines and moans go up around the room, and I'm faced with many faces of angry children. I smile as sweetly as I can. "I'll be back tomorrow night to continue reading." This creates excitement for the children and results in an immediate cheer. They are momentarily hyper before Charlotte declares bedtime again.

"I want Auntie Bella to put me to bed." Riley folds his arms and sits down, his bottom lip jutting out and his dimples forming as he puts on the most adorable pout.

I can't help but fall for his expression just the smallest amount. After all, Riley is my favourite, even if I shouldn't have favourites. I look to Charlotte, who is staring down at Riley — the last remaining child in the room – before she turns to me and nods.

"Come on Riley-kins." I coo and hold open my arms. He grins, bounding over quicker than I can think to jump up into my arms.

"My, you're getting to be a big boy." I groan a little as I shift his weight to the side so I can carry him up the stairs to his room.

"I am! I'm going to be five next week." Riley grins proudly, showing of his perfectly formed pearly whites.

"Ah, you are goingto be a big boy." I grin back, feeling the happiness coursing through my body.

I've bought Riley a present for his birthday. It's a remote control car, and I probably shouldn't have bought it for him, since it's unfair to the other children, but when I saw the gleaming red car in the toy store window, I couldn't resist having to dip in and purchase it, knowing the car reflected Riley perfectly: bright, colourful and attention-seeking.

I make my way into his bedroom where I lower him into bed, having pulled down the covers first. I bend over, tucking him into bed and kissing his forehead.

"Sleep well Riley-kins and Auntie Bella will see you tomorrow." I feel the sadness of having to leave Riley here consume me as it always does when I say my goodbyes. I stop the tears from falling, needing to hold it together for Riley.

"Night, night Auntie Bella. I love you." He turns over and drops of with ease into a peaceful slumber. I drop my hand lightly onto his head and murmur.

"As I love you Riley-kins, I'll make you mine someday. I promise." Before I swiftly leave the room and head downstairs. I pick up my bag, stuffing in the Harry Potter book, call a quick goodbye to Charlotte and make my way out onto the street.

It's already dark, so I quickly hurry down the street in the direction of the apartment I share with Angela.

I keep my head down and grip my bag closely. I slip my hand inside my pocket and take a firm grip upon my pepper spray. As I make my way around a corner not far from my apartment, I feel a hand on my arm tug.

I yelp out a "help" in surprise and sharply move my elbow backwards, making it collide with something soft yet firm, where it is met by an "ouch." I turn around and squirt the pepper spray in the direction of my attacker, until I realise it's Angela.

"Shit, Angela! I'm so sorry, I didn't realise — are you okay?" I quickly grip hold of her arm, looking around in concern.

Wondering whether Edward is out there.

Watching.

Stalking.

I can't shake the feeling of being watched and it is making me nervous and edgy, so I start pulling Angela as quickly as I can down the street towards our apartment, in need of getting into my safe, secure apartment and needing to care for Angela.

"I'm fine. My eyes sting a little, but you had pretty bad aim, Bella." She chuckles, and I drag her all the more faster. Now extremely aware of the creeping darkness and unseen eyes from the dark spots around, I feel my paranoia heightening by the moment. I pull Angela firmer against my body, supporting her weight and guiding her along as she clutches her eyes, which are now watering.

We reach the apartment, and I shove Angela gently inside before bolting the door, locking it, sliding on the catch and making sure everything is secure as it can get.

Angela looks at me with surprise, her eyes red and puffy and the tears still streaming but at least she manages to open them.

"Sit down, I'll get you a cool flannel." I rush of into the kitchen to get ice and a cool flannel for her eyes, hoping it'll take down the swelling, because seeing her with big puffy eyes for the next few days will not ease help to ease my guilt in the slightest.

"How're the ribs?" I'm acutely aware of the fact that she must be agony after my surprise assault.

"Not bad, now why are you locking us in like we're about to be attacked?" She sighs and leans back on the couch, covering her eyes with the cool flannel. I frown and shift my weight awkwardly.

"I'm not, Ang." I turn away, heading over to the window where the curtains are still wide open. My unease mounting to an even higher level.

"Right, Bella, so you just slide home every lock we posses for no reason at all?" I can just imagine her eyebrows raising at me in that moment.

"No reason at all, Ang. Just don't go letting any strangers into the house." I hear her grumble a reply but I am too preoccupied with the window, which I have now reached, to care about her questions.

Looking out across the street, I see nothing, so I look down both directions, and feel a pair of eyes upon me, but still, I see nothing. I look back to the centre, reaching for the curtains to draw them closed.

I see him standing there, looking ready to kill. His hair still stuck up in every direction like he's got bed-head yet his eyes are shining out in the darkness, his glasses now removed. The golden orbs stare up at me with raw, livid emotion.

I find it hard to keep returning his stare, so with a gasp, I draw the curtains shut in one swift movement.

I lean back on the closed curtains so I feel the window pane against my back, and I sigh. Feeling my heart thud against my chest, I dare not allow myself to peek and see if he's still stood below the street light, staring up at my apartment.

When I woke up, the start of my day was like any other. I was an ordinary girl with a mundane and boring existence. I wasn't looking for anything exciting. Now, as I go to sleep, I know deep down my life can never be the same again. As I go to sleep, I am the mate of a vampire, and not just any, but the mate of a Hollywood vampire who's name I didn't know until he told me. I am the mate of a vampire I ran away from.

Currently I can be found in my room, locked away, hiding under my covers like a child in the place I ran to after avoiding not only my mate, but Angela. I know he's out there, waiting for me to emerge, and it's leaving me scared and afraid for what is to come.

I am truly and utterly fucked!


	3. The Nightmare

*^* Fatum Lamarium *^* ~ Nerdette Love

.Play List.  
Beauty from Pain by Superchick  
Cooler Than Me by Mike Posner  
Goodbye by Avril Lavigne

~Chapter Two~

.The Nightmare.

BPOV

I have always prided myself on my ability to rise above fears and irrationality. Fears are dangerous if left to fester and can eventually eat away at a person—gnaw at one's sanity.

Everybody is a victim of fear, and whether it manifests in different ways or not, it's always the same ending result: innate terror claws at the linings of one's stomach and the tendrils of darkness snake out into the depths of one's mind to take control and paralyze. It's a battle to push them down, block them out and prevent them from consuming you. I have passed nineteen years without having totally succumb to my fears. I fought them once and managed to escape with my life — barely.

Now, in my most vulnerable hour, in the darkness of slumber and with my body and mind both closed to the outside world, I know things are not well. Being barely aware of anything, my subconscious has risen to take control of my brain. It's hard to tell whether I am awake or asleep, hard to distinguish the truth to where I am. The confusion of the subconsciousness is something that truly scares me. The fears that I have pushed down into the dark depths of my mind are starting to surface.

My heart picks up speed as I see him standing there like an angel sent from heaven. As he stands upon the concrete paving slab, nobody can deny he looks like an angel, but an angel he is not. His shadow splays out behind him, looking dark and menacing. Not an angel from heaven, but one from the pits of hell.

My mind drifts. How long have I kept him waiting? Has he stood here all night? All day?

Sun rays beat down on his body, which is clad in black jeans, a dark t-shirt, and is molded against his body like a second skin, defining every line of those scrumptious abs. I take the moment to devour every immortal inch of his toned body for a mere moment before I wrench my eyes away. Lucifer has sent his minions to distract us with the delights of life, with the untouchable ones we most crave. I cannot afford for my mind to wander. He is the route of all evil — the walking undead.

His sunglasses, those things he calls Ray Bans, cover his face and those golden eyes. Golden eyes mean good. That mantra from yesterday rises to the forefront of my mind. Good means golden.

I frown as my eyes trail from his defined jaw to his pointy chin, up to linger on those big, peachy lips. They make me want to shove him up against a bush or lock him away in a room with me for eternity, just to ravage him. Lips that should be illegal. I feel myself grow more flustered at his thoughts, and the burning sensation in my cheeks indicate a blush. Once again, I've allowed him to crawl under my skin and ruffle my feathers. I don't have sexual thoughts about people, especially not vampires. I take a deep, calming breath trying to centre myself before I realise something feels off. Tension is high in the air and my stomach is twisting up in knots the bad kind, the run to the hills kind.

His hands are behind his back, obscuring my view of something.

Thud. 

My heart beats hard against my chest. What's he hiding? I step to the side while trying to tilt my head sideways. He moves in perfect sync to obscure my view. Why has he moved? What's he done?

I gulp.

Pure, undiluted terror floods my bloodstream.

He crooks his finger at me.

"Come here, Isabella."

I take a step forward despite the voice in my head telling me to run, run from the predator as he looks at me like prey. I drag my feet against the floor and fight my inner compulsion, stopping mere inches before him. I take in his appearance again and notice the harsh lines of his mouth, the sinister feel of his aura.

"Take off your glasses." I want, no, needto see those eyes.

His lips twitch into a smirk whilst he reaches up and draws them down his face, using both of his pale hands, which are stained red. Blood red. Blood that smears and stains and drips off to form a puddle before his feet. His hands are coated in blood, almost drowning in it.

I take the moment to seek his eyes, to hope for golden. The cry is strangled in my throat as I see the bright, red orbs. Those beautiful golden orbs that represented all that was good and innocent are gone.

I know now he's from the pits of hell, with blood red eyes that scream terror in my mind. The cry breaks free while I stare on in disgust, my stomach rolling and protesting at the proximity between us. He k-killed a human and dares to say we're mates. I clutch a hand across my mouth, preventing the vomit rising in the back of my throat.

Automatically, my feet start propelling me backwards, separating me from this monster. He's like the rest, a no-good, blood-sucking vampire.

After a prolonged period of glaring at his eyes, feeling thoroughly sick, I turn to look away and there I see the body he has so casually discarded behind him. I can't tear my eyes away as I feel my body shake and shudder at the carelessly strewn limbs of the little lifeless form before me.

Riley.

His lively smile now gone, he looks so lifeless; completely and utterly dead. I rush forward towards him, crying out his name in a plea of desperate hope.

"Riley!"

I can't think about Edward. Not now, not ever.

I drag Riley's shell — that's what it is, empty of everything — onto my lap and then I cradle my Riley like the mother I never was.

I can't bring myself to care about the blood, even when it makes my head spin. When I want to fall flat on my face and let my eyes roll back in my head, all I can see is Riley. I can't leave him now in death, I wasn't here to protect him from Edward. He cannot be hurt again.

I screamed. "No!"

The tears pour down my face. I'm physically unable to look at Edward for fear of what I'll say. My stomach rebels against the sight of the blood that I see mixing with the waves of my tears. I feel my fight against the nausea begin to fail, and my eyes roll all the way back in my head. The deep red blood that has spilled across the ground sends me into the darkness of my mind.

I feel a hand on my shoulder and something else enclose around me; it's creating a sensation of suffocation. I gasp. I kick my leg out as I clutch blinding for Riley's body and I start to panic as I can't feel it. I reach further, grasping out and then—_whoosh._ The air from my lungs gives out as my body is crushed against a hard surface.

"Ah!"

"Bella. Bella! Wake up! It's just a dream." Someone shakes my body, breaking me from my sleep.

"He killed Riley." I sob and clutch at the lankets around me, trying to find him.

"Bella, what are you talking about?" I take a moment to look around. I realise I'm in my room. My messy, junk filled room, with the cases of books, the old wooden desk and the dirty clothes and bed quilts thrown around the room—no paving slab smeared with blood, no red eyed Edward, and certainly no dead Riley.

It wasa nightmare. Merely the fear invading my brain as it preys on the insecurities that have been emerging. I take a deep calming breath and attempt to pull the covers away from my body. They had been suffocating me as they wrapped around my body.

"Why am I on the floor?" I groan as I pull myself out of the cocoon of blankets with Angela's help.

"You fell when I tried to wake you; sorry Bella." Angela smiles apologetically.

"Payback for the ribs and eyes." A little regretful smile crosses my face.

"It's okay, Bella." She offers me her hand and I gladly accept. I give a little sigh as I look around my room, realising how utterly dysfunctional it is for living in.

"I'm going to get some coffee." I groan and stumble out of my room, over the heaps of clothing. I was still in my small, white tank top and little black shorts which stop just below my butt. Perfect for sleeping in, since they don't tangle up around your body, but not ideal for going out in public.

I make my way through the hallway into the kitchen, feeling like a zombie and I barely register my surroundings on my quest for coffee. I hear Angela shout behind me.

"Bella, I made you some coffee, but you, umm, have a visitor."

Her voice sounds strange, a mixture of excitement and apprehension. What the hell? A visitor? Who could possibly be visiting me at this time in a morning? Or did I not hear right?

I carry on towards the coffee machine that is now in sight when a pale, white hand sticks out before me, holding up a pipping mug of coffee in my favourite mug. I allow my eyes to trail along the arm to find who it belongs to, up the extremely well defined body, until I eventually reach the face.

Oh no!

"Angela, what did I say about letting strangers in?" I stare at his face and feel my stomach roll over.

"But he's not a stranger Bella. Did you mean him? I mean, he's Edward Cullen," she yells from somewhere in the apartment.

I gulp.

"Yeah Ang, but we don't know him," I call back. Quickly I avert my eyes to the cup of coffee in his hand.

"Drink." He shoves it closer to me and I hesitantly take it from his hand, careful not to brush my skin against his.

"Thanks." I frown as I look at the coffee, wondering whether he's spit into it or something.

"I've not poisoned it, Angela made it." I can hear the frown in his voice and I have a great urge to take a drink to appease him, so I do.

Feeling the liquid run down my throat, I smile, knowing caffeine is just what I need this early in the morning. I let out a little sigh of content and close my eyes while I gulp down the coffee.

"Coffee isn't good for you." I gather he's speaking to me, so I open my eyes to stare at him.

"But it tastes good." I take the last sip of my coffee and move over to the machine. He grimaces at my words. Obviously he disagrees, which unsurprisingly makes me want to drink more coffee to piss him off. I don't usually drink coffee so quick, especially when it's so hot, but I needed the energy this morning.

His hand grips my arm as I move away towards the coffee machine.

"You're not going to have another mug, are you?" His voice is high pitched and laced with worry as he frowns at me.

"Yeah, I am. Now would you kindly remove your hand from my body? I don't like being told what to do; I'll have as many cups of coffee as I like." I tug my arm free from his grip, which is surprisingly looser now. He's standing in the way of me and my coffee, in the morning, when I'm grumpy. I know I wouldn't usually have this kind of confidence but annoyance is high on my list of feelings right now.

I feel his gaze on my body as I make my way over the kitchen counter. It makes me uncomfortable and uneasy and then I realise I'm only wearing my shorts and tank top. I look around the room as inconspicuously as I can and spot one of my robes on the back of the chair. I have to bypass Edward to get to it; I spend several moments calculating the best decision before I make my way over towards him.

His eyes remain on my face the whole time, not looking at my body. I notice now that he has removed his Ray Bans and I stop as I catch myself staring into his eyes. The eyes that have no end and made me feel like I can see into his soul. I know I like what I see, which scares me more than him being bad ever could. I can handle him being bad; he's a vampire. It's an evolutionary design of him to be bad, but being good? It's wrong on levels that I can't contemplate.

I find myself walking forward again but this time in the direction of Edward, a bond between us pulling me closer to him. I stop when I am several steps away from him, and I have to tilt my head to look up at him because my head just reaches his shoulders.

I've always liked the feeling of a man being taller, it makes me feel more feminine and safe and protected; not that I need protecting, I can do that perfectly fine, myself.

He looks down at me, his features soft and understanding. A smile plays on his lips.

"You're in my way." I point towards the chair where my black silk robe is currently lying.

"So I am."

He smirks but he doesn't move. He doesn't even glance back to my robe. He steps closer to me, encroaching on my personal space. I don't move; I don't even flinch. I feel safe and comfortable. His hand moves to cup my chin, and he stokes my cheek with his thumb.

"What are you doing?" I groan as I feel the butterflies in my stomach intensify and the nerves that his thumb brushes against tingle.

"Stroking your face."

"I know that but I mean why?" I feel utterly frustrated and annoyed.

"You should have been more specific in the first place, Isabella. I'm stroking your cheek because I want to."

"Can you remove your hand?" I fold my arms across my chest and step back as much as I can with my chin still in Edward's grasp. He's being an ass.

"I can." He grins and cocks an eyebrow. "I thought you were smart, Isabella?"

"I am. Please remove your damn hand from my face now, Edward! Stop calling me Isabella. It's Bella!"

His grin slips slightly, but thankfully he removes his hand. He doesn't speak, just stares at me with that same intense, brooding glare that penetrates deep to my core.

I don't know how long I stand staring at Edward, just trapped in his gaze. I shift my weight uncomfortably after a while, no longer being able to stand the heat of his focus, which is entirely upon me.

"Edward." I whine a little like a child, but I don't care.

"You're beautiful," he says. He moves to cup my face again but I swat his hand away.

"That's a son by an Englishman." I remember hearing it when I went to London for a few days last year. It was rather good. He fights a smile.

"Can I get to my robe now please?" I point to my robe behind him and he nods.

"You don't have to cover up your body for me, I'm your m ..."

"Don't say the word!" I hold up my hand. His eyes look sad as I do this, but I don't want to hear it because that would be accepting it.

He steps aside without another word and allows me to grasp my robe which I quickly slip on and draw closed. I cover my body as best I can, trying to preserve the little modesty I have left.

"Bella, we need to talk." Edward's voice is cold and distant and as I turn to him, he's staring out of the window. His head not quite here and not with me, but far away. His hands are stuffed in his pockets and his whole posture is rigid and defensive.

His back is facing me as he stares out of the window. He's like a statue: unmoving, cold and unresponsive.

I take several tentative steps forward — now forgetting about my next fix of caffeine —  
towards Edward so I can touch his back from my current position.

I reach out with my hand, so it hovers just above his upper back, just inches away from actually touching him, touching his defined, muscled back. Hesitantly I move my shaking hand forward, but stop before I reach his back and draw it back against my body, clutching it against myself.

I take a deep unsteady breath and go to reach out again to him, but this time he turns sharply and makes me gasp. I jump into the air as he spins with blinding speed. He rushes forward and grabs hold of my body, preventing me from toppling backwards into the table but I cringe at the contact.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to scare you." He looks genuinely concerned, and once again, hurt at the thought of me cringing from our contact.

"It's o-okay." I've never been a major stutterer but when I was younger I was extraordinary shy and I would do it when I was nervous or upset. It rarely comes out in front of people now, but I feel my cheeks heating up as I feel it coming on.

As I'm back upright and stable upon my feet, Edward, thankfully, releases his grip on my body and takes a few steps away, putting distance between us. I'm glad for the physical distance for the moment as I've always found it hard to be so close to people but I know it won't take long for me to crave being near him. He's like a drug.

I've never needed the close comfort of another. The only people I allow close to me are my two long time friends, Angela and Jacob, and then Riley, who's like a son to me. So to allow Edward to be so close to me, having barely known him a day, makes me extremely uncomfortable.

"We can talk in the living room." I finally manage to get out, realising he'd been talking about needing to talk to me.

"I just need to change." I waft my hands around in the air, feeling awkward and vulnerable and yet safe and protected all at the same time.

My emotions are swirling up around me, inside of me, making my thoughts swim in a thousand different directions and because of this I'm finding it incredibly hard to collect myself.

"Sure, I'll just wait on the couch." He strolls out before me, head down, hands shoved back in his pockets not uttering another word to me.

He doesn't look in my direction, doesn't smile, doesn't even acknowledge me and it makes me feel hurt, like he's just stabbed me in the chest with a ten inch dagger.

I stop a sob from escaping my body and trudge off to my bedroom in a zombie state. I bump into Angela on the way, and she looks uncomfortably excited. She's jumping up and down, flapping her arms and giggling quietly as she points back at the living room and makes actions to Edward. She starts swooning about and fanning herself as she giggles again.

"Angela, pull yourself together, it's just Edward Cullen." I sigh, feeling thoroughly annoyed by her enthusiasm.

"Bella!" She admonishes me. "He's not just Edward Cullen, he's the Edward Cullen, the big Hollywood star and heartthrob." Her eyes are alight with excitement.

"Like I said, Edward Cullen." It's all utterly ridiculous, he may look handsome but he's just a vampire, nothing special.

"Bella, he's a vampire and he's in our house and he's a movie star wanting to speak to you. It can only mean one thing, you know you've m ..." I shove my hand over her mouth and she instantly sobers.

"No I haven't, Angela. Don't say that." I growl at her, instantaneously feeling guilt and regret for the way I've acted.

"I'm sorry Ang, it's just not me. I don't want this." I drop my shoulders, feeling depressed.

She pats my shoulder sympathetically, knowing I don't want to feel suffocated in a hug at this moment.

"I understand, Bella. I'm sorry. I know you don't like all the hype surrounding Hollywood and stars but do you think he'll give me his autograph?" She wiggles her eyebrows as she fades of into her far away land.

"Sure Ang, go ask him." I push her towards the living room with a forced smile. I love Ang because she never dwells or digs into my head. She knows if I want something or need something, I can talk to her about it, and she always be understanding.

I stop just outside of my bedroom and listen out to Angela and Edward in the living room.

"Mr Cullen, I was wondering whether I could have your autograph? I don't mean to be a pain but I'm a huge fan and I couldn't miss the opportunity of a lifetime with having you in my apartment, since it may never happen again." I smile to myself at Angela, always the polite one.

"Of course you can, Angela, and call me Edward; no need for formalities."

I can imagine the grin on his face, even though there seems to be a bitter twinge in his voice. It seems odd to know that his voice sounds bitter when I met him merely yesterday but I know it's there and I know why it's there.

Ang's words roll around my head.. It may never happen again.

I don't like the feeling of knowing him so well already or being able to recognise traits about him, especially when it involves me. I see he's a possessive man, but there is nothing I can do to change it.

Not wanting to hear any more of their conversation, I shove my door open and tumble into my room. I look around, realising it looks an absolute mess, and my laptop is lying open on the desk with the coffee cup from two days ago beside it.

It is the coffee cup I always drink from when I sit at my laptop and decide to type; it's called my inspiration mug, as it has lots of quotes from books and wise people printed around it. Angela had it specially made for me. Then Jacob had one printed with Sam on the front, that one makes me smile, but Angela's wins hands down every time. It was the first, and only year, in which they collaborated when buying me a birthday gift. At the time I'd laughed so hard to find two mugs. When I'd calmed down I made them promise to never gain shop together because I really didn't need two of everything.

Thinking of the mugs reminds me—I have been neglecting Sam since I got home yesterday. I sigh, knowing he'll have been up to all kinds of trouble by now.

I strip quickly, dragging on fresh underwear, jeans and a t-shirt. Quite an accomplishment considering the state of my room. It's nearing washing week so I'm down to my last few pairs of clean anything. I tie my hair up in a ponytail and drop down onto my knees to see if Sam has been hiding out in my room, but unfortunately due to the state of my room the attempt to find anything alive beneath the piles of blankets, clothes, books and other useless junk is absolutely hopeless.

I crawl over to the door with a sigh and pull it open. I get to my feet and yell out.

"Ang, did Sam sleep in your room last night? He's not in my bedroom!" I yelled only because I was nervous, unwilling to go back into the living room.

"No, B, you know he prefers your bed to mine." I frown. Maybe he is in my bed, but it's so hard to tell. I sure didn't notice last night when I went to sleep.

I look at my bed again and then I realise something is moving in amongst the covers.

"Sam, baby!" I call to him in hope I can get him out if he's in my room.

"Who's Sam?" Edward asks, and he doesn't sound happy. I smirk. He's getting jealous of a dog.

"Do you know if he left his toys in your room or mine Ang, because then I might be able to entice him out."

"Your room, Bella. You know he prefers you."

"Oh, I know. He's just my baby though." I really love my dog, but he's so full on and hyper active all the time.

I hear Edward growling and then angry footsteps as he moves closer to my room.

"Edward!"Ang calls after him.

I can't help but break down into a fit off giggles on the floor as he storms into the door, looking demented. I don't know what he possibly thought was going off, but he seems really annoyed. Just then, the bed cover that was moving stops as the big black, shaggy dog that I call my own comes bounding out at me barking, tongue lolling as he rushes over to me.

"Sam!" I open up my arms as he jumps onto me and licks my face.

"Sam, baby." I coo, ruffle his fur and snuggle in close, still fighting the giggles that have overcome me.

"Sam's a dog?" Edward asks. I look at him from the position of being flat on my back with Sam squashing me.

"What did you think he was?" I quirk an eyebrow and giggle again as I see Ang standing behind him, looking.

Edward folds his arms, grumbles and leaves the room. I continue to giggle on the floor, happy that I've annoyed Edward.

"B, that was mean." Ang crouched down beside me. Her voice was scolding but I see the smile playing on her lips.

"What? I didn't do anything." I defend myself as I pull Sam onto my lap so I can sit up.

"Toys? Your room or mine?" She raises her eyebrows.

"Oh, I didn't think about it being taken quite like that." I laugh again while feeling myself blush at my own innocence.

The whole situation does reinforce the fact that male vampires are possessive and dominant about their m— about their—.

I can't even think the word, never mind say or hear it.

"Come on, Sammy boy." I ruffle his head again and shove him off my lap with quite a bit of effort.  
"He's really getting big now. Aas he been fed?" I feel guilty knowing I'm a bad mother to neglect my baby.

"He's huge. I put some fresh food and water down this morning," Ang says as we make our way into the living room.

I feel a little queasy again at the thought of actually sitting down to talk to Edward. All joking aside, it's a serious matter that we're about to talk about. It's my life and future that rests in his hands, because if he decided to pick me up and take me away nobody could stop him. I certainly couldn't, and the police wouldn't.

Once a vampire male mates, all rights of his mate are revoked in favour of the vampire's will, so as long as there is sufficient evidence to prove a mating, the police do not interfere between mate and vampire.

It's a rather unfortunate situation, but then again, I've never heard of a female rejecting a mate or a mating. Usually they turn into giggling girls that ask how high when their mate tells them to jump.

I jump for no one.

I take a deep breath just before I enter into the living room, and Ang reaches out and squeezes my arm.

"I'm going to take Sam out for a walk." She gives me a sympathetic smile and I nod. I want to cling to her and tell her not to go, not to leave me alone with him, but I don't. I know I have to face this on my own, whether I like it or not; I can't rely on Angela for the rest of my life.

"Okay, Ang, don't be gone too long." I compromise with myself, knowing I won't survive for long without somebody other than Edward in the house and I don't really fancy having Jacob appear.

I really don't think it would go down well with him, after he jumps to the wildest conclusion about Sam. Although some may say that's my fault for making the comments about toys and being tired at night, but being exhausted is the truth even if it isn't down to Sam. Another point is, Edward just seems to have a very, dirty mind.

The thought makes me chuckle and cringe all at the same time, yet it doesn't ease my internal battle in the slightest.

As I enter the living room, I see him seated in the centre of the couch, his hands hanging between legs that are evenly spaced out over feet rest against the edge of the chocolate rug in the centre of the room.

His head is down and his glasses are lying on the coffee table. He doesn't look up as I enter and I thank him mentally for that, because I don't want to quite look him in the face at this moment; even if I know it's coming within moments.

Some people say doing something you hate first always makes things easier, but I find it hard to just buck up the courage or find the motivation to do that, so I need to wait and build the confidence inside myself.

I'm not a person who goes around showing off and declaring how beautiful and wonderful I am to the world, because I'm none of those things; I'm just a normal average girl who has been placed in a rather shitty situation.

I know people argue that, cursing can give one the impression of lowered intelligence, but in this moment there is no other way to summarise a situation where a girl such as me, so opposed to vampires and mating, who wants to a live a quiet, peaceful life, complete her degree and live with her best friend can end up mating with a vampire who's a Hollywood star.

And Hollywood stars do certainly notlead, quiet, peaceful lives. I've seen the paparazzi that follow them round and stalk them, every detail of your life posted across paper headlines and glossy magazines. Especially when you're a Hollywood heartthrob.

Edward is indeed Hollywood's "it-guy" and has been for the past few years, or so the internet says. After all, I am not about to find myself connected to a random stranger without first doing some kind of research on him. Not that I plan to stay connected to him for much longer if I can help it.

The internet is a wonderful thing and we're extremely lucky that it doesn't decide to pack up and close for the evening, as last night before I slept, I spent numerous hours surfing the web looking at one particular topic.

I did initially intend to continue with my writing, as I'm writing a story, it's a science-fiction novel about Aliens and the human race don't exist. The humans eventually enter space and become classed as Aliens themselves. It's complicated and bizarre, but it's something I feel familiar and safe with, so when I'd pulled up the tenth chapter, I found myself drawn to the internet. It may sound corny, but I actually wanted to research something about NASA and their current space exploration projects, but rather than typing NASA into Google, my favourite search engine, I got distracted. They happened to have a very entertaining version of Pac-Man integrated into the Google logo for people to play. Confronted with a perfectly useful Google search box, I typed in Edward's name.

I was astounded with the results which cropped up. Over 900, 000, 000 results appeared.

It left me feeling rather stunned to believe that I, an absolute nobody, could be connected to one of the most well known actors on the planet, who also happened to be a 110 year old vampire. That was an extremely creepy fact on it's own; he was older than my dad and grandparents.

The thought made me a little sick to be truthful. He only looks young; if one wanted to pinpoint an age, one might say seventeen. He was changed in 1918, after a bout with Spanish Influenza.

Wikipedia is another great source for information. I sigh thinking how much of a stalker this makes me seem but really, Wikipedia is there for a reason and I am not about to let myself walk into any situation blind. Research has always been my strong point and it happens to be something I truly adore doing, so I was pleased to find I had stumbled upon a great little project.

I'm not about to tell anybody this, but he has his own file on my laptop now, dedicated to the information I have found out about him, which is ever growing. As Wikipedia, after all, can only tell you so much, and I need to cross reference my facts to make sure I have them sure.

I mean, I know I could probably ask him, but I don't fancy getting into the whole life history chat.

Given how old he is, it may take a while, and usually when people have those type of conversations they expect something in return— tit for tat, and I'm certainly not the sharing type.

I know I have an extremely unfair advantage, with Edward being present over the whole of cyber-space, but that's not really my problem. He's the movie star, so he should expect people to want to know as much about him as possible, which means skeletons and all, including, I'm guessing, being a vampire.

I find it rather entertaining though, the fact that I can find out a lot of information about Edward just using the internet, and he can't find anything out about me. I even typed my name into Google just to be sure. Thankfully no results came up that were actually linked to me.

The only person he could possibly sneak information out of is Angela, and she hasn't been around him nearly long enough— I intend to keep it that way. He does not need to know anything about me, as there is nothing happening between us. I nod my head firmly to myself, knowing we're just random strangers in a freak situation that can easily be solved.

"So shoot." I drop down onto the opposite couch, as far away from Edward as I can. I do, at least, have the decency to look at him. My parents have always instilled manners and respect in me, even if they did it in a rather disjointed, roundabout method, but now is not the time for my life history. My stomach clenches at the thought of my parents but I push away the guilt and pain that lies there.

"Isabella ..." He goes to speak but I hold up my hand. The "Isabella" crap is really starting to annoy me and my nerves are wearing thin, very thin, indeed.

"How many times have I warned you about calling me Isabella?" I growl.

"Twice; this would be the third time, Isabella." He grins, unrepentant, and I feel my jaw slacken a little. I didn't expect an exact answer but I guess with him being a vampire, he recalls things easily, though it's such a trivial thing...

"And you're about to make it four times." I fold my arms and pull myself further up on the couch.

He sighs. "Bella, we need to talk and I can't do it with you sulking like a four year old. You do look adorable at this moment, but we need to have a proper, adult conversation with good communication." His intense stare is burning a hole on my skin.

He called me adorable. The though alone makes me smile a little, against my will, none the less.

Since when have I, Bella Swan, been adorable?

"You've always been adorable, Bella." He gives me a cheeky smile.

"Did I say that aloud?" I ask, not realising if I had or not, because if I did, then that's something I really need to work on.

"Yeah." He looks shifty and uncomfortable though.

I nod my head, not in the slightest convinced.

"So, what's happening between us?" I motion with my hands back and forth and I feel my forehead crease.

"What do you want to happen, Bella? You won't even let me say you're my ..." he pauses and looks at me again.

"Say it." I hear my voice crack, but I lean forward slightly.

"You're my mate."

I feel the blind panic wash through me and he's knelt before me in the blink of an eye.

"Bella, breathe for me. In through your nose, out through your mouth. Big, deep breathes. Breathe, Bella." He shakes my shoulders lightly and I take in a deep breath through my nose as I exhale slowly after. Not realising I'd be holding my breath, the air through my lungs is a relief that makes my whole body shudder.

"Good girl." He praises me like a child when they say their first word or when a toddler first walks.

"I don't want it, Edward, any of it. I like my life, and your tipping it upside down." He frowns but doesn't move. His hold on me tightens a little and I feel the blood in my arms drain a little.

"Edward, you're hurting me." I cringe, but his grip loosens and I feel the blood rushing back into my arms.

"I'm sorry, Bella. You don't want me or the mating?" He looks utterly heartbroken.

"Neither, Edward. I'm happy with my life. It might be boring, mundane and quiet but I'm perfectly content with that." I look at him, hoping he can understand where I'm coming from.

He just looks at me, not saying anything. I try to turn away but his hand captures my face and forces me to look into his eyes. He looks so lost and empty, I've never seen a stare quite like it.

He looks like his whole worlds been taken away in a moment and replaced by utter darkness and pain. I let out a little sob as I see the pain in his eyes, but there's nothing I can do. I can't be with him. It's just not me.

"Edward." I croak out but he pulls away. His whole body withdraws from me and he moves to stand at the other side of the room.

His back is to me again, hunched and defensive. I feel as though my favourite toy has just been whipped away from me cruelly. Is it odd to feel empty and lonely when he doesn't even mean anything to me?

Is this normal?

"Don't Bella, don't speak." He growls and I see his fists clench at the side of him and I flinch. He couldn't hurt me could he?

I sit deadly still on the couch, unmoving, barely even breathing.

He presses his hand against the window pane, and his body seems to relax.

"I will never, ever hurt you Bella. I promise on my life, even if that means nothing to you. I can stay away if that makes you happy." He doesn't turn to me, just continues to look out of the window.

"It would." I reply without thought.

"I can do that for you. Just promise me two things: I can have your phone number and you'll wear this at all times." He turns holding a bracelet.

It's silver, shiny and looks expensive. It's covered in diamonds and has a strange pattern embedded into the bracelet band.

"Edward." I frown, knowing I can't accept something that looks so lavish from him, especially when I feel like I'm being so mean. Also, it would stand our for miles around. It's like a honing device for people to spot from outer space.

"Please, Bella, that's all I ask from you." He bows his head as he twists the bracelet round and round in his hand.

"Why?" I need to know a reason to walk around wearing such a outrageous piece of jewellery on my wrist.

"Do I need a reason?" He moves closer, holding up the bracelet.

"Fine." I don't push the fact, knowing that I'm asking him to leave me alone. I can see I'm crushing him and damn if I don't feel guilty about it. I guess this could be a reasonable request from him, especially since vampires only ever mate once. After all, I researched vampire mating last night as well.

It said in the history of all vampire matings, with humans and vampires alike, a male vampire will never, ever leave his mate alone once he has mated due to the urge he has to constantly protect her and the bond they forge between each other that makes them inseparable.

Luckily this bond is only created by sex and Edward and I certainly haven't had that. It says the bond is created when the male marks the female as his own; this finalises the mating.

There are two more stages after the initial bond is established in order to complete a change into a vampire. Just the thought alone makes me shudder.

The vampire mating is sacred and the vampire male always promises to protect his mate before himself. Placing his mate's needs before his own and making sure she is always well provided for.

I remembered reading something about the need to mate, and the desire to finalize the mating which becomes stronger over time when you go without mating. Eventually an incomplete-mated pair will be drawn together, unable to refuse their growing passion for each other.

I fell off my chair when I'd read that, but I knew Edward and myself; we're different and it won't happen to us.

I feel it.

So as long as we don't mate it means that we will be able to be apart, though it also said being apart from your mate for prolonged periods of time can be extremely uncomfortable. I cringe again at the thought of needing somebody so much.

I look to Edward and hold out my arm, knowing that if he is going to let me be free, I can give him this one thing by wearing his bracelet.

"Bella, promise me that you'll never try to take it off." He looks me dead in the eye as he fastens the bracelet onto my wrist.

It feels like an iron grip wrapping around my arm and yet it makes me feel safe and secure with the warm feeling it sends through my body. It's as though the bracelet itself is humming with life as it snaps into place. Edward securely locks the bracelet.

"Yeah, sure," I mumble. I look down at the bangle which is glowing so brightly that it hurts my eyes but the magic it creates means I find it hard to remove my eyes from it.

"Bella, promise me." He groans in frustration.

"I promise." I whine a little like a child but look into his eyes, after finally managing to tear myself away from the beauty of the bracelet so I can truthfully show him that I mean my promise.

"Thank you, Edward, it's beautiful." I turned my gaze back to my arm.

"You're welcome, Bella, but it's nothing compared to you." I feel my cheeks heating up at his comment. I've never been complimented so much before. That's not to say I haven't received comments, because I have, it's just that boys have never really been interested in me. I've always been boring, "swotty" Bella. Not that I care, I have my fair share of experience with boys but I don't really want to get into all the gory details. They truly make me shudder.

Edward's hand cups my chin and he brings me up to look at him. He gently bends down towards me and I feel my heartbeat start to rise, beating faster, thudding against my chest— hard. Then his lips brush against my forehead, soft and cool. I feel a shiver run through my body as he pulls away, a small sad smile on my face.

He steps away and I hear the door close. Angela's back—with Sam.

He bounds through the door and runs straight into my arms as I crouch down to his level, tearing my eyes from Edward.

"Hello, boy, have a good walk?" He licks my face. I laugh and nuzzle my face into his fur.

I see Edward talking to Angela quietly, and she nods, handing him something. I frown but don't make a comment. It's not my place to say or ask what he's doing. After all, I don't control his life and I never will, nor will I be part of it; the thought makes me sad, which is strange, as it's what I want.

"I better be going, Bella. It was nice meeting you. Enjoy your life. It was nice to meet you too, Angela. And Bella, don't ever take that bracelet off. You'll know how to contact me if you ever need me." He gives me a final, sad smile and heads for the door.

"I won't, Edward. I promise. How would I contact you?" I call out. I don't truly understand what he means. How would I know? I hear the door shut and I know it's too late. I'm not sure even why I asked to know how to find him but something inside of me needed to know. I couldn't let the question go unanswered, but now it's too late.

I turn to Angela slowly, who stands in the doorway. She looks at me, her face pale and her eyes filled with questions and horror.

I move like a zombie from the floor, feeling like I've just had my heart ripped out. I look out at the window, he's nowhere in sight. I totally ignore Angela in the moment as I search the view before me for any sign of the man I just kicked out of my life. I feel uncontrollably guilty and sick to the stomach. I've crushed him brutally. The look on his face matched that of kicking a lost puppy.

A complete and utter stranger, who seems to have changed me in a way nobody could ever think about.

I turn to Angela.

"We won't be seeing Edward again. I told him I didn't want him." I feel my heart clench a little as the words leave my mind.

"What? Why? Bella, he's your mate. You can't deny a vampire his mate!" she screeches.

"He's gone Ang, I don't want him and I don't need him and we aren't mates. We can't be, otherwise he would never have gone." I grab hold of Sam's lead and march of to my bedroom with him following close at my heels.

"Bella, you can't deny it forever. I'm not saying talk to me, but just think about it rationally. Don't run away from everything; for once in your life, don't close up from the world."

I block her out.

She's trying to help but she's interfering by telling me things I don'twant to hear.

I drop Sam's lead, knowing it's wrong to make him follow. He trots into my room mindlessly. I close the door and lean back against it, looking around.

I take in the shelves and shelves of books I own, the little trinkets I've had since I was a child. I take in scattered note pads and pens, all of my junk across the floor. It's everything that makes me who I am, but everything that I've done has been alone. As I look around the room, I don't see pictures of friends or family, only my own achievements. My evidence to the world about how I close myself away. Shut everything out. I want to scream and throw things about, but I know it won't help.

Compared to Angela's room, mine is a different world. She has a TV, a collection of DVDs, games and cards, photos; things that adds up to a world of fun and friendship. Things people do together. My eyes finally rest upon my laptop. Edward's picture still displayed from the night before, his Wikipedia photo up on the screen.

Calling out to me.

I wonder why it hasn't shut off by now, why it's still staring at me. His hair looks beautifully messy and his golden eyes piercing but something is wrong about the picture. As perfect as he looks, he doesn't seem complete.

I can't put my finger on what's wrong, but something is missing. A constant in his life, somebody to care for him, to treat him well; he's all alone in the world and the person programmed to want and need him. Just turned him away.

And then it clicks— he's lonely.

Something I feel deep inside of myself.

Loneliness.

In that moment I feel inconsolably racked with guilt, pain, heartache and sorrow. I drop to my knees as I let my emotions consume me, feeling utterly lost. I allow the tears to pool and bring to mind, my solitary image of Edward.

I clutch at my covers whilst my body is overcome with the shaking of my sobs.

What have I done?


	4. My Mate

*^* Fatum Lamarium *^* ~ Nerdette Love

.Play List.  
Love How It Hurts by Scouting For Girls  
Everybody Hurts by Avril Lavigne  
Thanks for the Memories by Fall Out Boy

~Chapter Three~

.My Mate.

EPOV

I prowl into the nearest building to escape the onslaught and attack of the paparazzi. They are like vultures; they prey on you at your weakest point. The moment one least suspects them to appear — wham— they're there. I really hate them! I just want to be able to walk down the street and feel free. After the day from hell, the paparazzi have just pushed my final button. First I had to deal with Tanya Denali, who was yet again coming onto me and then some idiot messed up the sound system, meaning we had to redo the whole scene again.

One may wonder how I haven't gained more patience over my life, and I have to a certain degree, but one can't be perfect every moment of every day; not even an immortal.

After the past sixty or seventy years of being nothing but alone, everything is starting to wear on me. It makes me question whether I'm actually worthy of somebody, if I'll ever find somebody to share my life with.

I'm fed up with everything. I've been an actor for over forty years, before that I was a musician, I've been to high school several times, university, travelled around and learnt numerous languages. What else can somebody with an endless amount of time do? Some people would say I should get a girl or "get laid" as Emmett likes to so crudely put it, but I don't want a lay nor do I want just any girl. I'm waiting for my mate and I want to go to her pure. Not with hundreds of girls at the back of my mind.

There isn't much that doesn't seem bleak or tiring and for a vampire that never tires, this seems rather exceptional. If it weren't for my family, I'd be curled up in a dark, damp cave, only coming out to feed.

My feet keep moving and I realise that I'm in the library, with it's rustic smells and quiet surroundings, I almost feel at home; I am peaceful, for once in my life. I shouldn't get hassled here, or if I do, lets hope the staff can do their job and chuck them out. After all, libraries are known to be the place of quiet contemplation and wonderful discoveries.

I have my own personal library, which I like to spend a great deal of time in, relaxing and reading. Being an immortal who doesn't sleep gives me unlimited time to enjoy the pleasure of books and learning new things. Although, I can't say I've ever felt quite like this before, because my whole body seems to be humming.

I stalk through the tables of the library, moving further past the bookshelves to a deeper, darker section of the library, hoping that somewhere, I can find my own private space that nobody can invade upon, even if it's just for a few short hours.

That's when I notice somebody is following me — my anger flares. Why can I never be left alone? I slip to the side of a bookshelf and hide myself in the shadows, waiting for the small frame that looms to move forward and finally reach me.

For a moment, I allow myself to be captured by the femininity of the figure; the long flowing hair and curvaceous figure gives me no doubt it's a woman. She makes her way towards me with the very edge of a predators stalk, ready to pounce. The last part breaks me from my reality and I reach out with my hand, stopping her from venturing onwards, and she jumps in surprise — maybe a touch of fright. I can smell the fear emanating from her every pore.

My grip on her shoulder only tightens — I don't want her running away like a frightened rabbit. I lean forward to speak into her ear.

"Why were you following me?" My voice sounds husky to my own ears, which I don't like. This waif of a girl seems to be shaking me up from under my skin. Shaking? She exhales loudly, and it captures my attention. Did she stop breathing?

When she finally speaks it comes out more like a squeak and her voice is like a bell — music to my ears.

I growl to bring myself back to sanity. I'm allowing this temptress to get the better of me. "I'm not stupid, so answer my question."

She squeaks again and I tighten my hand further on her shoulder and I feel the soft tissue give under the pressure of my hand. I find my eyes drifting to the length of her neck and the smooth curve. I watch the pulse and ebb of her blood beneath that oh-so-thin skin.

"Can you please remove your hood, Sir." She sounds calmer and more confident this time, which leaves me utterly dumbfounded, but thankfully shakes me from my haze of momentary blood-lust.

No stalker, no mobbing. She asked me to remove my hood — doing her job — and that thought shocks me. Nobody has ever just done their job with me.

I let out a little "oh" and her body sags against me a little when I release the death grip I have upon her shoulder. She spins quickly away from me and puts as much distance as possible in this confined space, between us. Have I scared her?

Staring at her face, I realise she's an innocent beauty. She's merely a young girl with big, chocolate-brown, doe eyes and a trusting face, and I've abused her. I frown. I've hurt her. Regret and horror washes through me at the thought — how can I not have recognised my own strength?

My gaze is locked with this girl whom has me completely entranced.

How could one girl be so alluring? I've never in my lifetime seen anybody like her, not anybody who could even hold a candle to her light.

Could this girl be the one?

Before my mind can start to go into an in-depth analysis, I remember to find my voice and speak to the poor girl.

"Sure. I'm sorry. I didn't realise. Did I hurt you?" I ask. I need to know how badly I've hurt her because there is no doubt in my mind that she's hurt.

"No, I'm fine." That wondrous voice rises again.

I find myself ensnared with those big, pump peachy lips; they look incredibly inviting. I find myself getting aroused at the thought of them; desire, something I haven't felt in a very long time.

My voice is rough as I grasp for a response and while I try to rid myself of images that are less from innocent about those lips, wrapped around a very hard part of my anatomy.

"Good." I slide off my hood.

I tilt my head to the side and send out a mental probe, only then realising, I'm not picking up any mental frequency from the girl. I get nothing. It's like her mind doesn't exist. I try again to find myself with the same result and every growing in my frustration.

My eyes travel back to her face, where he cheeks have turned the most delicious pink — how I wish I could read her mind now, if only to know why she's blushing. I wonder how far that blush goes down?

Her eyes are fixated with my hair and I have to fight a smirk; girls always seem to love my hair. I fight back a gasp as I hear her voice sounding out in my head. It's just an errant thought but I immediately know it's her, the flavour of the mind trail, the magical voice. I'm struck with momentary confusion, she's a blank wall and yet, that one thought hit me.

Two words.

Hot sex.

They throw me out of sync and make me want to press her back into the bookcase and ravage her body — every curvaceous inch. I manage to pull myself back from the brink of taking her when I see her little, innocent face and nervous expression.

But why would she be thinking that? What made her think it? I certainly want to find out and I'm not going to settle without an answer.

Her eyes are still lingering on my hair, obviously having developed her own little fascination. Her eyes have darkened slightly and her breathing rate has increased as her cheeks hollow out and she flushes a deeper red. The blood pouring into her face makes my resistance even harder. Her hair is partially concealing her face and that creamy, pale skin that I want to sink my fangs into. She's utter perfection with her dainty nose, that pouty lips and big, innocent eyes.

She finally pulls her eyes away from my hair and starts to fidget with her hands. Is she nervous?

My thoughts fade away into nothing as we once again get caught in our yearning trance. Her aura screams pureness, although I can see something has tainted it with the dark splodge that hovers around her inner core. She's locking it away and it makes me want to unlock it, drag it open and bare itself for me to see — just like her.

Her eyes are so incredibly expressive, telling me everything I ever need to know in one look alone, the heart to unravelling her soul and heart. I know she's truly mine in that moment and she will never be with anybody else. The dominant part of me that has lain dormant for so long, first beaten back after my newborn, years is rising to the surface, newly reawakened.

I see and hear the books clatter to the floor as they fall free from her hands but I'm so lost in her that I can't bring myself to catch them, to hold them for her. It might also be the little part of my arrogant male ego preening that I can have such an effect upon her. To dazzle.

The energy around us is full of goodness, light and passion. In that moment, I have no doubts that she is my mate, my one true love. This is the girl I've been waiting for since the moment of my re-birth as a vampire. The second half to my incomplete whole.

The person I felt disturbing our peace earlier, finally intrudes on our moment. It's a man. I have to hold myself back from snarling and growling at him to stay away. I lock down my muscles to control myself.

Although the man — or should I say vampire, even if he is a pitiful excuse of a vampire —couldn't ever compare to me in efforts for this beauty's affections.

I find out her name from him, somebody so unworthy of speaking her name.

Isabella.

So befitting for such an alluring sight.

She tears her eyes away from me and whirls around, where she teeters on the tips of her toes. I feel sad that I can look into her chocolate orbs no more, so instead I glare at the vampire before me who is looking furiously at Isabella.

I tap into his head with ease and hear him thinking about biting her so that she can be kept in order. How very dare he even think about harming even a hair on her body. The only person that will ever be allowed to sink their fangs into her skin is me, and that will be during the throes of passion where I will claim her as mine. No other male will lay a hand upon her, comfort her nor will he pleasure her. It will only ever be me.

I listen to their exchange in a cold fury as he growls, shouts and reprimands her for dropping the books, which I can see makes her feel incredibly remorseful. I feel stupid for enjoying the moment of male arrogance that resulted in me not catching them, and putting Isabella, in harms way.

Something I can never, everallow to happen again.

She bends down to pick up the books and I reach down to aid her. My own hand brushes against her smaller, daintier hands when I stretch out for a book.

She looks up at me in surprise.

"Allow me."

She looks afraid, which makes me want to go and tear this vampire limb, from torturous limb for how he's making her feel.

"Thank you for the offer, but please let me, it's my fault and my job." She pleads to me with her eyes and I succumb to her will —entirely helpless.

I give a sharp nod and raise myself to my full height. I position myself before Isabella, just to make it clear that I am her protector to that before us. He will make no mistake that she is mine and mine alone to care for and protect because if he does, he will rue the day he ever became an immortal.

Once she's gathered the books into her arms, she scuttles of like a scared little lamb to the front of the library. I watch every shaking step she takes while keeping a firm mental grip upon this smudge of a vampire. I don't stop the growl once Isabella is out of earshot. I drag my glasses down my nose and fix him with a brutal glare.

His eyes widen in terror and I feel the smugness settle in while I watch his mouth open and close like a fish. I stalk forward and feel my ego boost as he rushes backwards, almost tripping over his own feet. I move so fast that he lets out a sharp cry when I pin him against the bookcase, which shakes. Several books tumble down around us.

"You never, ever talk to Isabella like that again! Do I make myself perfectly clear?"

He nods his head.

"Answer me, you useless, measly little vampire!" I smack my hand against the bookcase hard.

"Yes-s-s."

"Good. Oh, and ever think about sticking your little fangs in her neck again and I'll do the same to you, over and over again, in much less desirable places."

I allow my fangs to extend and bring them close to his skin and gesture with a biting motion. He gulps and starts nodding his head. What a good little dog. 

I don't move from my cage position around him because I want to see him sweat it out — intimidate him a little bit more.

"I am Isabella's mate so I will find out if you ever lay a finger on her, make a cruel comment or say anything that you're not meant to. I can get into your head, see the deepest, darkest fears of your subconsciousness, and make them come alive. So now you're going to trot of back to the desk and be nice to Isabella. She's going to come back and spend time with me and you won't say a thing or deduct her pay."

He's quivering from head to toe.

"What. Are. You. Waiting. For?" I punctuate each word with a punch next to his head.

"N-n-n-nothing." Then he's off, blurring from beneath me to find Isabella.

I chuckle darkly. "Don't forget to pick up your mess, Mister James."

I hold onto his mind the whole way and listen to the anger and humiliation that's bubbling up inside of him. Stupid vampire. He should have learnt by now that if he doesn't have a high social standing, he never will.

I chuckle again and swiftly move away from the desecrated area of books and shelves.

I hum gently under my breath. "Remember my promise, James, because if you don't, you shall rue the day you ever messed with Edward Cullen."

I don't think I've ever gained so much fun from tormenting somebody.

I drag a hand through my hair. I'm impatient for Bella's return, to see her all in one piece. I scent rather than see her first, that mouthwatering strawberry scent that wraps around her. I try to take as much in as I can in an attempt to sooth my inner beast. My ears tune to the fluttering of her beating heart and short little pants of her breath. None of this helps with my current state of arousal even after beating down the beast; I want to take her, claim her.

My mother would not be proud if I were to be so ungentlemanly. I promise myself that is what I will be to Isabella: the perfect gentlemen.

However, it doesn't stop me from enjoying her delicious scent nor mentally undressing her, as those are my private privileges. I can push down my desire but it cannot be tamed nor controlled.

She enters my line of vision and I rush to her side as she cries out while tumbling through the air. I catch her easily and wrap her up in my arms, where I hold her against my body. I'm careful to stop my lower regions connecting with hers because she really doesn't need to know about that yet. I attempt a reassuring smile while she tries to regain her breath.

"Thank you."

I help her fully onto her feet and feel entirely too attached to her in my arms to actually let go. With a gentle sorrowfulness I release my grip upon her.

"You're welcome." My voice deep and seductive because once again the deeper part of me shoves aside the rational and my pleasure practices rise due to my need to seduce and take my mate, damned the consequences.

My eyes transfixed upon hers until she ducks and squeaks. "James said you need my help?"

I nod and watch with apt fascination the pink colouring of her cheeks when she blushes. To pull my thoughts from less than innocent places I begin to talk as I wander by the bookcases, thinking about how I could take her here and now if I so wished.

I mentally chastise myself and ask about her favourite book because I can say I am intrigued to know the workings of her mind, not only because I can't read her, but because she's my mate. I want to know her favourite colour, word, food, smell, sound, film, and author. I want to know everything and anything from the smallest to the biggest detail. What side of the bed does she like to sleep on? How does she sleep? Does she cook? Is she healthy?

I can catalogue the information and store it away for future use because I have no doubt she will try to gain an advantage upon me. It's the nature of women to be sneaky.  
I certainly won't allow a woman — mate or not — to walk all over me. I am in control.

She turns towards the books. "How do you know I have good taste?"

My lips quirk into a smile and giving into a small amount of my temptations I place my hand against the small amount of creamy skin that has been revealed on her lower back.

I lean forwards and whisper in her ear. "I can just tell."

I preen with satisfaction when she shivers.

She gasps. "What type of book are you looking for?"

I take pity upon her and remove my hand while I listen to her heart beat slow as it no longer attempts to jump out of her ribcage. At least I know she reacts to me positively, just how mates are meant to.

We banter back and forth and I take in her likes of science-fiction, classic romance and horror, finding her all the more endearing. She's a unique girl and totally unlike the other nameless women who throw themselves at my feet. There is more beneath the surface, and it pleases me to know I'll have an intellectual like myself to talk to and share my knowledge with. I can teach her all about the world and open her eyes to so many wonderful things. How can it not be perfect?

She grows more agitated after her outburst of being nerdy and I feel compelled to ease that. When she starts to call me sir, it's the final straw.

"None of that 'sir' nonsense. Bella, I believe you will succeed, if the books you've just categorised are anything to go by. Now, if I tell you my name, promise not to squeal on me."

I realise she's my mate and we'll be spending an awful lot of time together but I can't be doing with somebody who is star struck by my fame. I spend most of my time running away from screaming girls, so I don't want to be coming home to another. She can get used to it, I don't doubt that, but I can't deny that it would be nice for her to be different. To be honest, it's surprised me that she hasn't recognised already. How odd.

"I don't squeal."

I chuckle at her indignant tone.

"I think you do, Miss?"

"Swan, Miss Swan. And you are yet to tell me your name. Stop stalling." She giggles and she draws us deeper into the library. I slowly follow her and let out a gentle sigh after I reveal my name.

She spins around and leans back against a bookcase. The seeming image of pure seduction as she raises one perfectly arched brow.

She lets out a raucous laugh after she tells me she's no screaming girl and that I'm not quite the star I thought I was. I merely stare on in bemusement.

"So you've never heard of me?" I ask and she turns around to the bookcase and reaches for a copy of Wuthering Heights. I've already read the book and it wasn't really to my taste. I can't say it was a bad book, but it's not the type of book I would put into my top 100. The love between Katy and Heathcliffe became so twisted, it's hard to actually understand what the appeal between them actually was.

I shoot her a crooked grin while we keep talking and I listen to the leap of her heartbeat, which I must say makes me feel smug. When we finally reach the point where I know she understands who I am and she's not a screaming girl, I find myself actually relaxing. It's a surprisingly refreshing change and I guess I got my wish about finding somebody who doesn't know who I am.

I laugh out loud when we broach the subject of fashion; her naivety is incredible cute, especially when he brow furrows and her cheeks heat up with a blush that is soon becoming her trademark remark. I'm finding myself being drawn further and further into the mystery that surrounds Isabella Swan.

My eyes cover the delicious curve of her neck, the swell of her breasts and the feminine curves of her swaying hips.

Our conversation is kept up easily while I keep my eyes trained on her every quirk and movement. I see how her hands ring together and twist and her eyes linger on my mouth which I gently allow to crack open and reveal fangs that unsheathe slightly as I think about her soft flesh beneath my hands, writhing and wriggling. The lust within me rises when I listen to her voice and the call of her blood and the only thing that can break me from my hazy state is the sight of her beginning to crumple to the ground after she utters:

"You have fangs."

I sweep her into my arms and gently lower her to the floor.

"Isabella!"

I hover over her and call out her name again, trying to coax her into opening her eyes. After several agonizing seconds, she finally makes a sound.

"What?"

I crack and smile and whip off my glasses. I try to bring her around with my mere willpower, but it seems to fail. My joy continues as she talks. Even though I could always hear her beating heart, it still frightened me to see her like that.

"Why have you disappeared?"

Her hands reaches up to touch my face and I lean into the touch — utterly helpless. Her hand is so soft and silky smooth as she caresses my face. She spans out her fingers and her thumb brushes across my lips before pushing its way into my mouth. When she brushes across my fangs I feel them elongate in the sexual excitement of the moment and the urge to bite on her thumb, which is quickly ripped from my mouth as Bella gasps. Her heartbeat begins to flutter madly and I panic that she's going to give herself a heart attack.

She obviously has an aversion to my fangs, which may make issues between us uneasy, but she can't react badly forever; after all, I'm her mate.

"I haven't, Isabella. You passed out. Now, can you open your eyes for me?"

Her hands come up to bat at me, or at least I think it's me, yet she never quite gets there.

"No, I don't want to."

I take hold of her arms to keep her from hurting herself and she finally manages to open her eyes and she looks into my own. That's when I realise: my glasses are on the ground. I completely forget about them, as I became dazzled when our gazes connected. Nothing can stop our connection now and we get lost in one and other. I quickly reach for my glasses to put them back on and block out the deep soul-wrenching connection for the moment so we can concentrate.

"Are you feeling okay?" I caress her cheek and revel when she blushes for me. She obviously enjoys my touch — oh the things I could do to her.

I pull away and help her to her feet before something that she'll really regret happens, considering she's been shifting around and brushing up against me intimately. I pull her with a little more force than necessary and she stumbles against my chest, giving me more time to hold her — selfish I know, but I really couldn't resist. I hold her with a firm grasp until she steps away with a little shudder.

"You'll certainly keep me on my toes."

She looks at me rather quizzically — maybe she heard that?

I watch her step away from me and that's when I recognise the fear in her eyes.

"Edward, are you a v-v-vampire?"

"Yes, Isabella, and you are my mate."

I seem to drop into a more formal tone when I land the bombshell, but it's not like it should upset her, after all, mating with a vampire is a privilege and a great honour. Even though I don't drink human blood, I'm incredibly important within the vampire world due to my gift. I can read the minds of those around me without physical contact. However, being one of the gifted means the Volturi likes to keep a watchful eye upon me and the other gifted few, and they will certainly be interested to find out I have a mate.

Mating for the those vampires in of higher social standing means we get lots of attention. Being in Hollywood just adds to that attention. It means that when we mate, we are usually mated to somebody strong, and might I add, beautiful — it might sound vain but it's the way the world works — so Bella fits perfectly.

I watch Isabella when the panic sets in, and I act on instinct. I move forwards and cage her in against the bookcase, my hard body pressing against her soft one. I place my legs on either side of her and my arms at the side of her head. How dare she deny our mating?

Mates cannot deny one another; they are meant to be. I feel the pain of her rejection.

"Yes. You are, Isabella. Why else would I save you from James?" I growl and she quivers in fear. I try to calm down and detract my fangs but it's hard with the scent of her fear in the air and the anger at her rejection.

She surprises me by ducking out beneath me and making a run for it. My mate, is running away from me. She doesn't want me.

I feel something stab at me in the place that my dead heart belongs.

"Isabella." I race after her, trailing her scent to find her already gone from the library.

James chooses this moment to stalk out of his office, a sneer across his face.

"Already lost your mate?"

"Don't say a thing, unless you want to lose your balls." I fling aside a chair and ignore the skittering of the little humans and their indignant cries.

Nobody walks away from Edward Cullen.

I stalk out of the library and down the pavement where I follow her scent. I can hear her beating heart from here and the pounding of her footsteps upon the pavement. She can never run from me, I'm her mate and I'll always be here. I stop dead when I see she's gone into a foster home.

Why would she go to a foster home?

I move closer and hear voices, the voices of children calling our for their "Auntie Bella". Why is she caring for other people's abandoned children? My brain isn't in any rational place to contemplate these thoughts, so I find a spot opposite of the building and make a bed to lie in for the near future. I'm not going to move until she comes out.

She's been in there hours now and it's dark. She's not eaten, I know this for sure. It's completely unacceptable that she isn't taking proper care of herself. Also, she hasn't got a car here so she would be walking home in the dark when anybody could be around. This will be the first thing to stop, her lack of thought for herself.

I'm going to walk her home and make sure she gains her three good meals of the day to make her fit and healthy, especially if she's going to bear my children. She'll be under my protection and she will never leave my sight. No late night sauntering, especially unaccompanied.

She exits from the building and I smell the fear in an instant as she scouts around. She draws her bag close to her and scuttles off down the path in the direction of what I assume is her apartment. She's huddled into herself while she keeps away from the dark areas, and I follow her in the shadows. It seems she's still scared of me and maybe now isn't the right time to alarm her.

I can be patient because I will wait for her.

I keep my mind open so I can read the people around her, and not sensing anybody makes me feel calmer. A new mind pops into my provisional sight and I immediately delve deeper but when I see memories of Bella and taste the concentrated scent of her around the area and around the female, my muscles relax. I hurry to catch up and survey the scene.

I allow myself to relax but I stare on in horror when Bella attacks the poor girl — who's her roommate — with pepper spray. Where does she get pepper spray from?

Pepper spray wouldn't be much good against a vampire though. I watch her blush and apologize when she finally recognizes the girl is her friend. The girl helps her into the apartment. I smile.  
Knowing I can sense her around me and around the area so strongly tells me the bond is strong.

I position myself under the street lamp opposite and listen to the goings on within her apartment. She comes up to the window and looks out. I listen to smug satisfaction when her heart beat races and she gasps. I raise my hand with a smug grin but it's too late as the curtains are drawn closed and she blocks me out again.

Damn it! Isabella Swan, I will not allow you to block me from you life, I grouse. I stand there for a few more moments.

I know I need to go home, even if just for a few moments, to collect the bracelet that was given to me when I came into the vampire world. Each of the gifted vampires are given a bracelet so that our royalty, known as the Volturi, can keep track of our mates. Being gifted means we need a strong mate and the Volturi want to ensure that we are tied to keep us balanced and on the earth. Our vampire lives span over centuries, so it's unclear when we might find our mate, and because many soul mates are not born within the same general time of our births, we generally have to wait a long time. So, when we find them, the Volturi are determined that we will keep them. Some vampires doubt that they will ever find their mate, but there has never been a doubt in my mind, ever.

Then Isabella tips that self-worth upside down by not reacting how she's supposed to. She's supposed to be happy and want me, not run away. That's why I need the bracelet — to make sure I can keep track of her properly. If the Volturi found out that she didn't have it on, there would be consequences.

I can't figure out the issue without being able to see into her mind but I've gathered something is wrong because of her eyes; they're so expressive — like an open book.

I lean back against the lamp post, not caring if it might be covered in dog pee or the remnants of somebody's tasteless chewing gum. I Just want to spend a few more refreshing moments in the night sky, this endless ocean of mystery, while I breathe in Isabella's scent.

I'm only inches of brick and mortar away from my beloved, beautiful mate. One I intend to secure with me for eternity. It may be the only selfish act I ever again allow myself to do, taking away her life when I bind her to me, but I really cannot allow her to escape me. Something long and forgotten is rising within me and I'm crying out for her touch. I feel incomplete when I don't have her love and affection. I understand that these things don't materialise in an instance no matter what the type of bond or how much wishing I do, but she to feel something for me, because I don't think I can cope with this aching loneliness.

It's a beacon of pain and hurt that's stabbing at my non-pulsing heart, and while it's cruel of her, I can't bring myself not to want everything for her, to give her everything because my inner beast is yearning for her.

That scorching warm body for me to curl around. To protect and cherish and lavish with every gift and treasure known to man. It's all I've ever wanted. What did I do wrong? Why did she run?

The bracelet can't force her will — which I wouldn't want to do, like some — I just want to bring us closer.

If I can get the bracelet upon her delicate arm, I know I have a hope of finding her heart. The bracelet will not only satisfy my inner self, and my need to protect her by being able to monitor her every move, but it will highlight to others she's mine. Some may say it's a violation of privacy, but nothing can come between two mates. The true bond between mates means nothing can be a secret and that everything is shared. In the moments of union when you exchange blood it is said to feel as though the vampire and mate are one. They can slip between each other's minds and find every hidden cavern when it is opened up completely.

When both of you are open to the invasion of the other, no matter the barriers placed between mates, when blood is exchanged, they can interlock minds and share the joy, passion and love of the moment.

I've heard it's something wondrous, and even though I have experienced many things in my long existence, mating is a wholly new and experience that I'm excited for.

The bracelet also contains part of my essence. It will keep my Isabella calm, to an extent, to feel my scent against her skin, whether she is aware of it or not, so if we have to be parted for several hours it will ease her discomfort. It also helps to develop the feelings when she becomes accustomed to my scent and feels the urge to be near me.

It may seem unfair to an outsider, but to reject the mating or run from it causes unnecessary harm and hurt for both parties involved. I will neither allow Isabella the chance to reject me or run from me again. The dangerous temptress by the name of Isabella Swan has tested my control to the fine line today, more than it has ever been in my long existence. The beast within me knows she can't escape and it won't allow it. No matter how much the logical part of my brain remembers the calculating look upon her face as she ran, or as she hustled home to her apartment, I just can't live without her. It's not a place I intend to allow her to stay in much longer; she will soon, very soon, be locked away in my house, home, my bed and certainly my heart.

She's making my dead heart want to beat and hum to the tune of hers. Tomorrow, I will make Isabella Swan, irrevocably mine forever, and cure the ever rising loneliness within me.

 

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I find myself feeling nervous – something I haven't felt since being human. A trait so foreign to me that I don't understand what it actually is at first. It confuses me enough to make me pause at the entrance to Isabella's apartment. To know she's already affected me so drastically, makes me yearn all that more for her. Can I press the buzzer to change that even more?

My hand reaches for the buzzer on gut instinct rather than the use of my brain. I know I could press this buzzer for the rest of existence just to hear her voice again. However, it's not my beautiful angel that answers.

"Hello. Angela and Bella's apartment, who is it?"

It's Isabella's room mate, who must be this Angela girl. I step closer to the microphone.

"I'm a friend of Bella's. We met yesterday at the library, I'm not sure if she mentioned me but she ran off in a hurry and she left behind her purse. Can I bring it up?"

I know it's wrong to tell lies, but I need to see Bella, and I have no idea how this girl is going to react. I'm basically helpless and I don't like it one bit. I could rip open the door and barge my way in, but it's hardly going to make Isabella feel comfortable, when she's already acting like a frightened kitten around me. An adorably skittish one but one that's not learned to walk and needs to be taught how to walk.

"Sure. I'll just buzz you up. She's still in bed, so I'll go rile her up in a minute."

"No need, I don't mind waiting."

She doesn't reply, just buzzes me up. So I swiftly glide through the now open door and up to the second floor where my Isabella resides, from here I can hear her little snores and sighs while she's asleep.

The shadow of a girl I saw last night is revealed to me in the light of day and looking a little worse off, with puffy red eyes with shadows beneath. Otherwise, she is perfectly healthy until she moves, then she starts to wince.

"Oh. My God." She gawks at me and I realise this girl must know exactly who I am as she stands there with her jaw wide open. She blinks several times and shifts her head to look behind me, before she focuses back to me.

"Did-d-d you meet, Bella yesterday?"

"Yes."

"You're, like, the Edward Cullen, though."

I chuckle. "I am the Edward Cullen."

"Oh gosh! You better come in, please!" She quickly shuffles aside and I notice her eyes never leave me.

"I'm sorry. I may have given a little white lie to get up here, but I don't think I made a very good impression upon, Isabella yesterday. You see, she happened to faint and then she ran away."

Angela nods her head soberly. "It's not you, or at least it's nothing personal. It's just Bella. She's different. A little broken and delicate."

"Right."

I nod my head. Why would Bella be broken and delicate?

"I'm guessing the chat isn't going to be all flowers and delights?"

I turn my head to her in surprise, she seems to be observant.

"Thought so. Go easy on her okay, she hasn't had the easiest of experience with your kind."

My kind? I follow Angela as she leads the way and I find myself in their quaint little kitchen. It's small and homely with the little wooden table and surrounding surfaces making it feel warm and cosy. I can tell immediately it's the heart of their apartment. I watch with disgust as she begins to make coffee for Bella; something I will be weaning Isabella off. Coffee is extremely bad and it doesn't create a healthy body. Isabella's body should be a temple, especially if she is to bear my child.

Angela scurries out of the room once the coffee is brewing, leaving me with strict instructions for me to poor it into Bella's mug. I have to say I admire her choice of mug. It has wonderful words and phrases that have been coined on the side; it's rather unique.

I hear an agonised cry, a thump and then a sob.

I straighten up and turn to the sound of the distress. Immediately within my soul I know it's Isabella, and I take a step towards the kitchen exit in hopes of finding her, to comfort her. I listen to Angela talking to her and then I hear her thoughts.

Edward killed Riley. 

I freeze. I was in her dreams, only I was the cause of a nightmare. I was the cause of her distress. Guilt overwhelms me at the thought of me being the source of her anguish. She truly finds me that disturbing ... what have I done?

I stalk back towards the coffee machine and begin viciously banging around the crockery, rather uselessly, to vent. I end up breaking a mug and a teaspoon, thankfully not Isabella's. I practically gag as I pour the foul smelling brown liquid into the mug, and move it over to the side, ready to give it to her when she arrives.

She's coming to me now, stumbling down the hallway in her bare feet and rumpled from her disrupted sleep. Could she be seeking me out? I quash down the idea because she hates me, she truly hates me. Even the mating bond couldn't bring her to me in this moment. I don't have to be able to read her mind to know that much.

She sounds so forlorn and worried when she questions Angela on the visitor. Finally, she enters the kitchen and if I were human, my heart would have surely skipped a beat. She looks divine.

Her hair is ruffled around her face, like a bird's nest. Her eyes are hazy and filled with sleep, leaving her looking disorientated. She's wearing a pair of shorts fancy shorts that reveal her bare silky legs to my eyes. So long and supple. Then, a little black camisole that clings to her body and shows off her curves.

She doesn't seem to notice me at first because she scuttles across the kitchen totally oblivious. That is, until I hold my hand out, and the mug within, just at her eye level. She lets out a little gasp. Her heart stutters before starting to pound frantically while her chest rises and falls making her vest flutter with the movements and expose interesting glimpses of those two creamy mounds beneath. My mouth waters at the thought of those bare to me and only me.

"Drink." I prompt her gently, afraid of her dashing away like a frightened lamb.

I try to go carefully, not moving anything but my hand. I make my tone calming and gentle to reassure her. What's happened to the strong, independent, albeit slightly skittish woman I met yesterday?

"Thanks," she whispers. She sounds so insecure as her shaking hands take the coffee from me. I notice how she avoids touching my skin or moving too close. She frowns upon inspection of her coffee. It offends me a little, I must say. Could she really think so lowly of me as to try and plant something in her drink?

"I've not poisoned it; Angela made it!" I watch her intently while she takes a gulp. It doesn't really do a lot to appease me until she guzzles it down, her eyes fluttering closed and she moans quietly while she slurps. It seems she may be a little bit of a coffee whore.

"Coffee isn't good for you."

Her eyes flicker open and blaze in defiance to my words. I feel my inner beast rattle around to be released at that one look.

"But it tastes good." She takes the coffee cup over to the machine and I grimace. I question her on whether she's going to drink more coffee, feeling disgruntled at just the thought.

I catch her arm when she sweeps past me, using the moment to gain skin privileges that I should already have!

"Yeah, I am. Now would you kindly remove your hand from my body? I don't like being told what to do: I'll have as many cups of coffee as I like." She tugs her arm free from my grip and slinks over to the coffee machine.

I glare at the machine for a moment before stepping to place myself between her and her robe. I know she'll be looking for it in a moment and then she'll have to face me. Just as I suspected, she ends up heading towards me, after a moment of panic that occurs when she realizes what she is wearing.

I can't deny that my eyes didn't roam over her body or fixate on her pert little butt but I'm a dominant male who oozes sex, so when my attractive, sexy mate is placed before me, I'm not going to be thinking about daisies and my next deer.

She stops just before me and I smile, understanding her situation but unwilling to move.

"You're in my way." She points.

"So I am." I smirk, feeling smug. Unable to resist the call of her skin, I cup her chin with my larger, rougher hand and rub my thumb across her cheek. It allows me to settles the restlessness within me, the part that demands I take her, claim her.

"What are you doing?" Her heartbeat flutters wildly under my ministrations.

I refrain from saying petting you, out of fear of ruffling her feathers and when I say petting, I want to imply much more than simply touching. I want it to mean the whole, naked, intimate touching.

I feel the humour of the situation flicker between us and we seem to connect for a moment. The magic is quickly lost when she asks me to remove my hand but I do so without a fuss, feeling a little bereft.

She quickly scoops up her robe and shrugs into it with a swift movement.

"You don't have to cover up your body for me, I'm your m—"

"Don't say that word!" She slams a brick wall between us again, preventing any connection that was beginning to blossom, any hope of survival.

Rejection.

It hurts more than she can ever think. If she doesn't learn to accept our bond, it'll eventually kill her. I haven't told her because that will only scare her more and it's not something commonly known, but if mates are separated over a long period of time, they slowly start to sink into madness and disgrace. They don't feel the need to care for themselves, keep themselves groomed and properly trimmed. It takes a couple of months for the effects to become more noticeable but then they drop from there on to even worse. After six months if the parties haven't already gone mad, they are usually clinically insane and trying to commit suicide.

I don't want to be pushy but it's how the vampire society works. It's completely normal for us to behave like this because, after all, we aren't human. We are part animal.

"We need to talk." I turn to glare at the window, jamming my hands into my pocket and oozing a cold, dejected look to her. I can sense her emotions and the confusion and hesitancy she feels to my mood. I can't bring myself to care — she brought this on, she should fix it.

After all, I'm a monster come to eat her while she sleeps. Why would she ever want me?

I listen while she shifts her weight around and attempt to walk towards me. I grow tired or waiting for her to decide if she'll ever actually reach me, never mind touch me. I spin around and she shrieks.

I grasp at her body and prevent her from falling into the table. I take in the cringe and the freezing of her movements. They're like a slap across the face.

"I'm sorry, Bella, I didn't mean to scare you." I look into her eyes and feel a deep sorrow within me.

Anguish.

Anguish over everything. Messing up. Bella.

"It's o-okay." She adorable even if she doesn't want me.

I quickly drop my hold on her, not wanting to make her feel any more hate towards me.

"I'll go wait on the couch." I leave her behind in the kitchen to finish whatever she needs.

I drop onto the couch and bring my head to rest in my hands while I wallow for a moment in self pity. If it were physically possible for me now, I fear I would be sobbing. She's just torn out my heart, stomped on it, and stabbed it over and over again … what am I really meant to do?

The answer is simple and yet excruciating. Leave … until she realises she needs me. When she calls for me and only then will I come. And if she never calls, I will just have to find a way to sufficiently satisfy the bond between us to try and give her a happy life for as long as possible.

I clench my fists and hiss through my teeth. Why, oh why, did I fall for somebody who seems incapable of ever loving me back?

I truly am the monster I see reflected in her eyes. Just a monster, never to be loved. My body shakes and shivers as I silently sob without a noise, without a tear.

For I am a monster, eternally damned.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The bracelet is firmly placed upon her wrist, not to be removed and that's the only thing giving me a sane mind at the moment. The anger that has been building and stewing is bubbling over and I want to beat something to a pulp. I kick my foot against the concrete and raise a dint in the pathway while destroying most of my good shoes.

Why should I care about shoes? When ever step I take feels like another burning poker is being stabbed into my heart. I get I can be cocky, annoying, and a total bastard at times but what had I done?

Nothing!

"Emmett." The first number on my speed dial.

"What's up, little brother?"

"My place. Gym. Bring Jasper. Now!"

I cut the phone dead and simultaneously break out into a run. Weaving around speeding cars and walking people. I can't stand the closed in feeling, the consuming traffic. I've left my car behind, I'd break my baby in my current state.

My feet pound out the hurt, anger and heartbreak while I pick up the pace. My anger is like a second skin now. I don't slow not until I reach home and have vaulted over the high fence and wall and smash through the lower window to the gym.

Emmett and Jasper are waiting, resting each against a piece of gym equipment. They take one look at my appearance and both stand to attention. I watch Jasper's face as a mirage of emotions cover it. I don't bring myself to invade in on their personal thoughts, my own swimming enough for us all.

"Edward." Jasper speaks first and I growl, flexing my muscles and motioning for Emmett to fight me.

"Maybe we should take this outside." Emmett suggests.

"No. Now. Then you—" I point at Emmett. "—are going to watch her. I can't, I need to sort my head out."

I launch at Jasper who blocks me as I attempt to battle out my frustration. Jasper pins me against the wall in a quick motion and I flip him off.

"Watch who?" Emmett holds his hand up in a motion of peace.

Jasper lands a swift punch to my gut and I double over for a moment.

"Isabella Swan." I want to damn her to hell, scream her name but it merely sounds soppy and full of love.

"She's your mate." I nod my head and launch myself at him again. He lands flat on his back, no longer attempting to fight me.

"Who is she, Edward? Tell us." Jasper prompts me while pushing me away, none too gently.

"She doesn't want me. Doesn't fucking want me, because she's afraid. Afraid of me, her own mate. She flinches when I touch her, screams in her sleep about me attacking her. She hates me. I look into her eyes and see a monster reflected back at me."

I turn on them. I feel them watching me warily and I toss my sunglasses aside. I catch myself in the mirror and I see the epitome of the monster she saw. The dark, black eyes, the cruel harsh lines of my face.

"I'm unwanted!" I fling one of the running machines over and into the mirror.

"Watch her, Emmett."

I bust through the basement wall and back out into the sunlight. Open woods are on the other side of my house, the open world. I fly over the fence and start running.

Away from everything.

Away from my family.

And most of all, away from the pain and hurt of not being wanted, by the very person designed to love me.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

How long has it been now?

I couldn't tell you. Weeks. Days. I'm living out my dream, the cave, the dark, damp hole and the occasional hunt.

I don't know how else to deal with the pain and the hurt. I've had enough of life, of everything.

My phone rings … I couldn't tell you why I haven't destroyed it or turned it off by now. I guess I cling to my connection to the world.

It's Alice.

"Hello?"

"Edward, you are being entirely irresponsible. If you aren't at that movie premier tonight, you can say goodbye to Isabella. You're going with Tanya!"

Then she hangs up.

What the hell?


	5. Protection

*^* Fatum Lamarium *^* ~ Nerdette Love

.Play List.  
Alone In This Bed by Framing Hanley  
All I Wanted by Paramore  
I See You by Mika

~Chapter Four~

.Protection.

BPOV

I've always believed in being independent, and part of that is being able to protect myself. To those ends, I was always aware of my surroundings. It might have something to do with having to support myself as a child while looking after my mum and dad. My mum was scatterbrained. It meant she often forgot the little things, like having to grocery shop, or having to pay a bill. My dad was of Chief of Forks' police, which meant every day I had drilled into me how important it was to be vigilant of my surroundings. I never really took him seriously; I was naive. It made me underestimate people, and overlook warning signals. I overlooked everything, in fact until the fatal day, where I made the wrong decision. I could never understand how people came around to make such idiotic decisions, but when you're in a dire situation, it's like anything goes. I did something stupid.

I don't believe we can know the workings of our own mind, not really. Whether human or a vampire, we can't go about predicting the future to know everything. Tomorrow is always going to be a surprise.

Even now, I can't bring myself to trust my judgement, even after all this time. He took that away from me. Vampires, I try to stay away from altogether. Every dealing I've had with them has been unpleasant. They don't show any kind of feeling or emotion, only a wall of uncaring hostility, and underneath that was an evil within.

When I think of Edward, he confuses me. He acts so much like a human, and he does everything I don't expect him to do. He doesn't fit into my mold of how vampires are, and it scares me.

The fear of vampires, started in my teen years, and it never went away. It's my own fault for allowing it to happen; I got caught up in the wonder and novelty of them, and in the end, I nearly allowed them to break me.

Unfortunately, I work for one now. It's hard to avoid them, but this was a result of Angela's idea to "combat my fear" and become "a strong independent woman". It's worked to an extent. I don't walk around cringing and having panic attacks every time I see a vampire, but I just can't get close. After all, you can't eradicate a downright evil vampire from your mental plane totally.

I sigh.

My thoughts drift back to the childhood that I spent in Forks. The times I was with my father, and how he always tried to teach me the ways of a cop. I was only ten, but he was determined I would be the safest child in Forks, and the smartest street-wise. Charlie never wanted me to a be a cop, he just wanted me to be safe, so he gave me many lessons in life. They may not have been the average lessons for a ten-year old, but they were good nonetheless:  
Stay away from naughty boys.

No riding motorcycles, ever.

Tell me if you're going out.

No smoking, alcohol or drugs, ever!

Don't talk to strangers.

Don't take candy from a stranger.

And certainly, never, ever go off with a stranger.

If somebody attacks you, scream and run. You ain't gonna to be able to fight them, Bella, so just run.

If you ever get arrested — and I god well hope you don't — make sure you have a goddamn lawyer and don't answer anything until he gets there!

And the most important thing: never leave your pepper spray at home.

Charlie always prided himself on being able to protect society and bring criminals to justice. He had a strong sense of right and wrong, which he always instilled in me, but when it came down to it, he just couldn't protect me forever. After all, I don't have any self-preservation instincts; I can't walk without tripping over thin air, so self-defense is out. The only thing I've ever had for protection is pepper spray. It always made me uncomfortable to carry it around, but by my teen years he demanded I do so, because it gave him a peace of mind.

Trying to protect me was his way of showing he loved me. We didn't show our affection a lot, but it was there, deep down. He just thought if he could protect me then, I'd remain his little girl, safe and sound, always.

I just don't think we realised how much of a full time job protection actually is.

It's been three weeks, five days and just over twelve hours since I kicked Edward out of my life and out of my apartment. I had a little break down when he first left, wondering what the hell I'd done, but I've fully recuperated now. I'm just serving to count time instead. I didn't start counting the minutes, but I think hours, days and weeks are sad enough.

I stare at the computer screen, feeling utterly drained of energy. I haven't had a decent nights sleep in over a week. The same dream comes, over and over again. It's hard to define it as a nightmare, when it's not something one would call scary. It's just him: Edward. Over and over again, he plays on my conscience and I can't take it any more.

He stands there, in the middle of my apartment, every time, just under the doorway arch with that heartbreaking, downtrodden expression on his face. He looks at me for what seems like forever, and I feel myself breaking apart. I mutter his name, begging him to come back to me. 

Then he does, and it's so unbelievably simple. He drifts towards me with such fluidity and ease, it's just pure beauty. Then, when he's inches away from me where I'm kneeling on the floor, breaking apart while I wait for him, he stops. 

"You need to call me and ask me back. I can't come without your invitation." 

I scream, beg, plead with him to come back to me. I try to crawl to him, but I always find us unmoving; we're frozen in time. He tells me over and over again to call him. I ask him how and he says, "You know." It makes me sob so much harder. 

At that moment, I wake up, and like clockwork I find myself covered in sweat, shivering, clutching the bracelet on my arm to me in a cradle, and sobbing. I don't know what Edward was worried about when he told me not to take the thing off. It doesn't even have a locking mechanism, so how could I?

I can hear James in the office, pacing back and forth across his small, cramped office. He's hardly muttered three words to me since Edward's first and only appearance in the library. It's unnerving. It makes me creep around him because I feel like he's a wound spring, ready to fire off. James has always had a wild edge, a predatory stalker beneath a cool facade, but now it seems to have been permanently driven away when in my presence.

I'd walked into the library the morning after Edward left, and dropped my bag off in the office, when James caught me scuttling out. He wanted to reprimand me on escaping the day before, at the end of my shift. 

"Isabella, we need to speak about your actions yesterday. Running away from Mr Cullen."

His expression was sour and deadly. 

I twisted my hands together and rolled up my sleeves, feeling uncomfortable under his gaze. 

"I finished my shift." I try to defend myself. 

"It doesn't matter about your shift, Isabella. You ran out on a very important client, and that is a serious matter. He's a—"

"Vampire." I finish for him, and his eyes flicker to mine, the anger blazing just above the surface at my defiance. 

"How do you know?" He growls, obviously feeling out done by a human. 

I shift again, uncomfortable. Folding my arms across my body in an attempt to protect myself, I fiddle with the lapels of my jacket, while murmuring. "He told me." 

"It is unacceptable, Isabella, and he could have you sacked. In fact, you most likely should be sacked ..." 

James' eyes zero in on my arm and onto the bracelet before drifting back to my face. I watch the change in his demeanor through the whole episode. His growls cut off and his eyes flicker back from the bracelet, to me, and back to the bracelet. 

"However, I'm not going to fire you, this time, Isabella. I gather it's all a misunderstanding? So we have no need to bring it up again. You should get back to work. I'm sorry for taking up your time." 

I almost fainted at those words. James was apologising — he never apologises! 

He still looks angry, but manages to keep himself composed. 

"Thanks, I guess." I turn to leave and my whole body sags in relief. 

He's been nice, helpful, even friendly — a word one would never associate with James — since then. I can't even begin to describe him, my words aren't adequate enough. It's like he's trying to gain my approval.

It's really been confusing me, seeing him go so far out of his way to accommodate me; it's unnatural, especially when he's a vampire who prides himself on being the upper species of society. It goes against not only his nature and what he says as the natural hierarchy, but James' actual personality. It's petrified me. What's going to come next?

I'm waiting for him to snap, to finally bend so far over the edge, he can't take being decent anymore. I know he already feels bitter towards me. Even if I am beneath him, he seems to think I have it good. He hasn't lived my life, so he has no right to judge me and say I have it good. He won the evolutionary lottery in becoming a vampire. They might not seem to be the rulers of the world, but they're all there. They're in the White House, CIA, FBI, Secret Service. Maybe not the top men, but why be that when you can be the masterminds behind the scenes?

Everybody is so blind to the manipulation of the vampires. We all stare in wonder like the cattle we are, standing in our flocks on our high-rise city streets, watching the vampires zoom by or sparkle on the big screens. It makes me wonder: how many vampires are there in the world and are there enough of us to keep them fed and watered for life?

So here I am, scanning books onto the system after James decided carting books around the library wasn't a healthy job for me to be doing. I had no idea what that actually meant, so I just nodded and got on with my work. I didn't want to aggravate him and change his kindness, as I know how temperamental James can actually be.

I've been watching the clock repeatedly for the past few hours, feeling my chest grow tighter and my heart weigh heavier at every passing moment. It's hard to explain, but I feel like I'm missing a cog that makes the wheels turn. I'm like an empty shell without that cog and I've felt like this ever since Edward left.

I haven't admitted it to anybody, but I know, deep down, Edward's taken that cog with him.

It's getting harder and harder to put on a face and smile. I see the cracks get bigger every day, not visible ones — ones buried deep beneath the layers of skin and fake smiles.

The cracks inside.

I feel like I'm tearing apart but I'm not about to admit that. It's failure — admitting I need somebody's help.

And the thought that I could possibly need Edward. It had to be him, nobody else, and that thought scares me more than James' behaviour, more than dying. Needing Edward meant trusting Edward.

That trust just seems impossible.

"Isabella, your shift finished five minutes ago, what are you still doing here?" James frowns as he leans over the library counter. His elbows resting on the top, as his face looms closer to me, his fangs peeking out over his lips.

I had been staring at the clock continually, and the moment I choose no longer to look, my time runs out. Great!

"Oh, I didn't realise. I'll be off then; see you Monday." I move back into the depths of the office to pick up my bag — the place I now am allowed to store my bag without fear for my life. I head down towards the foster home.

I've been going four times a week for the past few weeks. I need the distraction. It's keeping me sane.

I trudge down the few blocks to the foster home. A ten minute walk that I make in relative silence and peace, not bothered by passers by or the rough people that hang around this end of town. I have my pepper spray and the little self defence Charlie taught me as a child, so I feel safe.

I've never really been worried about my own personal safety — self preservation isn't a word in my mind. But, as I walk down to the foster home, I feel like I'm being watched — again. I've felt it a lot lately, ever since Edward left. Like I have eyes constantly watching me, tracking my every move.

I pull my jacket closer around me and clutch my bag tighter, as I slip my hand in the front pocket and feel for the pepper spray. It relaxes me a little, to know I have some kind of protection. Even against an immortal, indestructible vampire.

That thought sets my stomach rolling again, clenching and squeezing until I think I'm going to puke my guts out. Thinking of vampires really doesn't ease my mind, it makes me think of him and then it makes me think of being weak and vulnerable again.

Finally, I think of Edward.

And that, I really can't handle.

I let out a frustrated sigh as I push open the foster home door and slip inside.

As usual, Riley is waiting on the old, rather worn stairs — the prominent feature of the entrance hallway. He's bouncing up and down. I smile, when his adorable little face lights up with a smile, his eyes sparkle, his hair bounces softly as it cups his face and his dimples show, making him look incredibly cute.

"Riley-kins!"

He runs down the few steps and leaps into my arms, making me take a step back with the impact of his small body against my own. I stabilise myself quickly, pulling him up further into my arms.

"Auntie Bella-boo!"

I wrap my arms around him and he giggles.

We've only just started with the nicknames; it slipped out by accident when I was tucking him into bed last week. He'd smiled more than ever before and called me "Bella-boo", it had stuck ever since.

I hated that I showed favouritism to Riley so much above the other children, and my inner self told me that it was wrong, but I just couldn't help myself.

The bond between Riley and me is like that between a mother and child. I know Riley's mum left him on the doorsteps of the foster home when he was young, and he doesn't remember her, but I don't see why or even how she could give up such an adorable child. My heart reaches out for him because never having known your mother is a terrible crime, but to never know either of your parents is even worse. I've always had at least one of my parents in my life, and when one of them was gone, it was a pain beyond imagination. I still couldn't imagine living without either.

Most of the children have some form of a past, but Riley, has nothing and nobody. I am the only person who visits him. I guess I connect to him because he's so alone; it brings out a protective instinct inside of me.

"Story time."

I hear the children in the house come racing from their hiding places, rooms and other engagements to gain the best seat in the playroom.

It was a rather surprise visit tonight, which is why they weren't already waiting for me in the playroom. Riley, however, sits on the stairs, every night, waiting for me. It makes my heart beat a little faster, because I'm swamped with guilt of disappointing him. Children are impressionable and they attach to people easily. It takes a long time to let go after someone moves on. So I visit every night of the week, to see Riley, even if it's just for ten minutes. It isn't really a chore, it's more enjoyment than anything.

It's grounded me over the past three weeks, to have this one constant in my life when everything else has made me want to cry and give in. Riley has never changed.

Who would have thought a man I have met little over twice, know nothing about, and haven't spoken to in weeks could affect me in such a way. I really couldn't, but it raised the issue of mating.

I've been researching it even more, ever since he left. I read something else, something scary.

If the mating is not declared to the Volturi — the vampire royalty — then they take matters into their own hands. They expect all mating to be declared to them, and for males to be caring, living, nurturing and loving their mates in their home. Oh God!

The word "loving" was a rather daunting term, as it wasn't meant wholly in the sense of love, but in the physical act of making love, and the fact that mated couples were expected to move into the male's home immediately; that's down right preposterous. Something neither Edward nor I have done, and apparently something there will be consequences for.

I tried to soothe myself by saying we weren't a mated couple so it didn't apply to us, and we weren't an important pair of people, just normal. It said this was mandatory on the 'gifted' few especially, but eventually after several months, all mated pairs should have declared themselves and be cohabiting.

Yet things only got worse when I read on, and I had to calm myself down from a full blown panic attack.

Human, female mates are expected to produce a baby before their change.

There are three stages to the process in which you must exchange blood with a vampire. The first blood exchange happens within the first "mating". The second happens after "marriage" or some other similar ceremony tying the couple together depending upon the couple's beliefs and choices, and the final blood exchange happens after the child is born.

No escape. Except for me and Edward. He said he would leave me to live my life. We don't need each other; we are an exception to the mating case because we're not mated!

I've said before, I've never followed destiny, destiny is of my own making and choosing.

After an hour of reading, I feel myself begin to tire, so I call the day to an end. The children sigh and whine a little, but all eventually start to pull themselves up from the floor, ready for bed though there are several that are, most likely, ready to cause mayhem.

I move to the far side of the room, beside the door, to pack up my bag.

BANG!

The door busts open …

Two big, bulky guys dressed in black leather enter. Their heads are skinned and their skulls are shiny and pale. The t-shirts they are wearing are stretched across their beefy chests to make them look all the more intimidating. They have identical tattoos etched on the side of their necks: a dagger through a heart. They tower above me in height, and consume the doorway with their wide frames. Matching smirks are plastered across their faces, and fangshang over their lower lips, gleaming in the light.

I gulp.

I hear the wail of a child behind me, but I can't bring my eyes to move from the me. I start to inch backwards, towards the children. Riley's cool, small palm slips into my own and takes a firm, unyielding grip upon my hand.

The men sneer.

I reach behind me and draw Riley against my leg in hopes of comforting and protecting him. I have little hope in succeeding in either with these huge monstrosities filling the doorway, but that doesn't mean I can't try.

"Well aren't you a pretty little lady." One of the vampires looks me up and down, his leer revolting me.

"What do you want?" I try to look menacing.

"Wouldn't you like to know, darlin'? I can certainly take you along for the ride. A ride on me." He laughs.

I feel my lips mash up at the crudeness of his words, especially in front of the children.

"I said, 'what do you want'?"

"Ohhh. Feisty." The other one chuckles.

"If you want money, you've certainly come to the wrong place."

"Money?" They look between each other, and an evil looking glint passes between them.

"We don't want your money. We want him!" He jabs his fat finger in the direction of Riley.

If he thinks he's having my Riley-kins, he can think again. 

"Well you can't have him." I draw my other arm around Riley and shuffle slightly to stand before him.

"Oh, we can have anything we want."

I press my hands into Riley to stop the evidence of my fear showing.

"No you can't."

The bigger of the two vampires step forward, and I immediately thrust Riley behind me and into the huddle of children who drag him into them.

"Now that was silly." He growls and dashes before me. I raise my hands in self-defense and his bone crushing hands drop down onto my upper arms. He pulls me against him like a rag doll.

I refuse to make a sound as his fingers dig into the flesh on my arms. That's sure to leave bruises. I'll be lucky if I don't end up with a broken bone.

His eyes bare down into my own and I see no compassion, no feeling. Just the heartlessness that consumes most vampires.

"Don't try to fuck with me."

The children behind gasp along with me. Although I gasp when his hands bite deeper into the muscle of my arms. I fight the tears that threaten to spill.

"I said you are not taking him. That's the end of it."

He cocks a brow and his lips twist into a maniacal smile, revealing his elongated fangs.

"Think you're in a position to bargain, little lady?"  
I hold my stead.

"I repeat: you will not touch him."

He laughs in my face, spraying venom over me, and I swallow the bile that rises in my throat.

"I'd like to see you stop me."

I raise my arm that isn't trapped so completely by him and move to hit him, when somebody else enters the room.

"She might not be able to stop you, but I certainly will. Now, put the little lady down, and you might want to check her arm while you're being so careless these days."

I try to see who my mysterious saviour is, but I can't see. It doesn't sound like anybody I know, and it doesn't sound like Edward, so who is it?

The vampire holding me turns and the mystery man is revealed. It does nothing to ease my fears; he's a vampire too, although he has golden eyes.

Golden means good. Right?

The other vampire holding me freezes, but then begins to chuckle.

"Oh, you boys think you're real tough, swooping in to save measly little vermin when you should be eating it for breakfast. You seem to have forgotten one little fact: there is two of us, and only one of you. Not got your little brothers to back you up now."

I take a moment to look at the vampire before me, he looks just as intimidating, with his big bulky frame and fangs. His hair is dark brown, slightly curly and he has dimples that remind me of Riley. I would even go so far as to say he's handsome. His eyes are his defining feature, big and golden. They remind me of Edward.

I sob.

Edward. 

The hands on my arms dig and grab me tighter.

"Ah."

The other one, my "saviour" hisses. "Put her down, and I suggest you check her arm."

He drops me carelessly to the floor, and I find my knees giving out, so I crumble on the floor. The brute holding me grabs my arm and yanks it in the opposite direction, making me cry out with the pain.

"Be careful."

"Shut it, pretty boy—"

I watch his eyes go wide after he begins to stare at the bracelet clasped around my wrist.

"Oh, she didn't say anything about this did she?" He yanks my arm further into the air to show his friend who shares his expression, and shakes his head.

"I guess you got lucky this time, pretty lady. We won't be so lenient in future. This bracelet don't mean shit to me, but when he's about, not much I can do for fear of bringing the whole ruddy world down on me." He thrusts my arm away from him and charges from the room, followed by his friend.

Leaving me and the vampire.

I crumble back down, and take a deep steady breath.

"Are you okay?"

A pair of pale hands reach out towards me, and I flinch. They move back away and I shuffle towards the children before looking up at him.

"I'm fine."

"At least let me check your arm."

"So that's why you're cradling it?"

"No!"

"Stubborn, just like he said."

"Who said?"

"Nobody." His answer, quick and brief, makes me uneasy.

"Why are you here?"

"I heard some trouble going off, and decided to check it out."

"What's my bracelet for?"

"It's a gift from the Volturi—"

"A gift from the Volturi?"

He doesn't speak.

I allow my mind to travel over the events. The brute had said this man had brothers. Brothers. The golden eyes. He knows about my bracelet.

I gasp.

"Edward."

He looks surprised, but still doesn't speak.

"Did Edward send you?" I desperately want him to say yes, to show Edward cares about me, while I want it, it still makes me furious for him to have sent somebody after me.

"Kind of."

"What's that meant to mean?"

"Hey, don't take it out on me. He asked me to make sure you didn't get yourself into any trouble."

"I'm perfectly fine."

"Looks like it."

"Well … you should have been doing your job."

"Now you want my help?"

"No. Did I say that?"

"Jesus. He said you were a handful, but he never said you were this bad."

"Excuse me?"

He looks at me as though just remembering I'm there.

"Look, I need to be going, can you just do me a favour? See to your arm, stay out of trouble, and contact Edward."

"But—" I splutter.

"Don't go …" He turns, surprise looking across his face before the cold, hard ridges of it soften.

"Why shouldn't I?" His voice however, remains the same stoic, even level.

"Because … can you look at my shoulder? It really hurts, and I have, questions."

His mouth twitches into a smile as he cautiously walks over towards me.

I turn to Charlotte. "I think you should put the children in bed."

She nods and starts rounding them up, but Riley comes trotting over to me.

"Auntie Bella, I don't want you to leave me." He pouts.

"I'm not going anywhere, Riley-kins."

He smiles. "I love you, Auntie Bella. Do you want me to kiss your boo-boo better?"

"I'm okay, Riley-kins. You go run up to bed, and I'll read you a bed time story once you're tucked up tight."

He nods his head. "Auntie Bella-boo?"

"Yes, Riley?"

"I'm glad you didn't let the mean men get me." Then, he toddles of upstairs with the rest of the children.

I twist back to the big guy.

"I'm B—"

"I know."

"Oh. Edward?"

"Yeah." His mouth twitches again as he fights a smile.

"Don't you want to know my name?"

"Oh yeah. Sure."

"It's Emmett, but most people call me Em, for short."

He crouches down beside me after most of the children have left the room. "Do you want me to look at your shoulder?"

"Not particularly. I have questions."

He drops back onto his haunches. "Carlisle and Edward would never let me live it down if I didn't check your shoulder. Let me have a look and you can question me."

I glance at him warily. Trust a vampire. 

"I'm not going to snack on your throat."

Oh my! What if he's saying that as a decoy, to put me at ease, and when he sees my neck, he'll chow down on it, like a rabid dog. 

"Somebody has certainly done a number on you."

I frown at him, but shrug of my cardigan so he can reach my shoulder. His hands are cold, tentative and tender as he brings them to raise my arm, touch the shoulder joint and help me roll my arm. I feel comfortable, for once in my life, with a vampire. I know I wouldn't be able to fight him, not now, so even if he is lulling me into a soft sense of security, I can enjoy my final few moments.

"Does this hurt?" He presses down onto my shoulder, and I try to twist away at the sharp pain.

"I'll take that as a yes." He gives me a cheeky grin before moving my arm about again.

I sit in silence, while his hands twist, turn and rub my shoulder. "Well, I'm no doctor, but being around Carlisle enough and dabbling in different things makes me think you're shoulder should be alright. It'll probably swell a little, so ice it, but nothing has been pulled out of place."

"That's good."

"So, questions?"

"Why did Edward ask you to follow me?"

"Easy, next."

"You didn't answer."

"Fine. You won't like the answer. You're Edward's mate, he isn't about to let you meander around, unprotected."

I huff.

"Told you." He flicks my nose as he stands up and offers me his hands.

"What's the bracelet?" I take his hands and he pulls me with ease to my feet.

"Edward's going to kill me, but you deserve to know. Certain male vampires in the world gain a gift such as this when they're created from the Volturi. Do you know who the Volturi are?"

"The vampire royalty, right?"

"Yes. Well, a male vampire finds his mate, he presents the bracelet to her, and it signifies that she has been claimed. It's also a form of protection and a warning to other vampires that if anyone should touch you, not only will they face the wrath of the Cullen family and Edward, but the Volturi. This is because you are incredibly precious, and worth much more than anyone else."

"Why?"

"Now Edward would seriously castrate me if I answered that, and I'm quite fond of my balls."

"Why doesn't it come off?"

"As far as I'm aware, only Edward can take it off."

"WHAT?"

"It doesn't come off."

"So … Edward's staked his claim on me. He can't do that!"

"Of course he can, you're his mate, he's symbolising only he has the right to you."

"That's …. caveman!"

"We're vampires, Bella, we're not human."

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"You shouldn't be. Edward isn't going to hurt you, ever. You're his mate, it's inbred into our brains not to hurt you."

"Sure. Well, what if I don't want to be mated?"

"You can't deny it. It's not something you can switch on and off. If you do, it'll eventually kill you!"

"Literally or metaphorically?"

He stares at me. "Don't play with it, Bella. I'm warning you! It's a serious issue. Edward's a mess, he's been living in a hovel, ran off like a bat out of hell when he came from you. I don't like seeing my brother like that, so sort it out and talk to him."

"I can't!" I wave my hand around in distress.

He reaches out and places a hand on my arm.

"Bella, I understand you're afraid, but like I said, we ain't all bad guys. Keep running from your fear and you'll be an empty shell, eaten from the inside out."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be if you can fix it. I want to get back to my life."

"I want my life too, but everything is a mess, nothing fits right, I'm a mess."

"If you're a mess think about Edward. You rejected him."

"I—"

"Save it. Talk to Edward!"

"But—"

"Use your fancy bracelet."

Then he was gone, just like when he'd appeared. Only the air particles remaining.

I turned to see Charlotte hovering in the doorway, looking mildly uncomfortable.

"Riley is asking for you."

I nod my head and grab my bag, feeling ten times wearier than when I came in. It was from the weight of not only the guilt of rejecting Edward, but messing up Emmett's life, and I don't even know the guy.

I trudge up the stairs to Riley's room where I slip in to find him already curled up and asleep. He has his favourite book clenched in his hands and his face mushed into his pillow.

"Awww, Riley-kins."

I sigh and quickly move to tuck him in, removing the book and I place a kiss on his forehead.

"I'll be back tomorrow, Riley-kins."

I turn and leave the room, thinking about the weight of the day. How will I ever get through to tomorrow, after today?

 

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

I march down towards the corner shop, which should still be open. It stays open late and it's become my nightly haven, or maybe my nightly addiction. It's not the shop itself that is responsible for my habit, but the goods it sells. Most importantly those horrid gossip magazines that I have come to depend upon.

I slip into the store easily, quietly and make my way over to the magazine section. Looking around and seeing nobody of interest, I pick up another magazine, like I have for the past few weeks. I don't look at the price or the title. I make my way over to the counter, feeling like a criminal for buying such a trashy magazine. I place it on the counter along with a chocolate bar. If I'm going to indulge, why not go the whole way?

"Three dollars."

I blindly hand over the cash and disappear before she can say anything more. With the chocolate and magazine stuffed into my bag, I make my way back to the apartment.

Tired as I was, I tried not to think about what I had to do to get to my apartment. It was only a two-minute, swift walk around the corner, but from there it would be up a few stairs to the building and then up a long set of rickety stairs to the apartment. Normally I didn't mind; I like to stay in shape, and my clumsiness prevents me from partaking in many other physical activities for fear of harming myself, so using the stairs is something I try to do whenever possible, even though my building has an elevator. Besides, if I did use the elevator, it would probably get stuck and end in me having a disastrous claustrophobic attack. That's the type of luck I have. Bad.

I shove my keys in the door and it opens easily.

"Ang?"

"In the kitchen, B." I smile, knowing I can lock up the apartment properly for the night now.

Once again, I slide across every bolt, chain and locking mechanism we have on our door before clicking my key in and twisting it round, to secure the final lock. I slump and march through the house to the kitchen. I pull out the magazine and throw it onto the table where Ang sits.

She picks it up immediately and the smile that was on her face vanishes. Her whole face pales.

"What's wrong Ang?" I frown.

"Have you looked at the cover?" She bites her lip and it agitates me, even if it's a habit I do myself. I know instantly something is wrong.

"No. Why?"

She doesn't speak, but silently turns the cover around to me. There I see the picture, like a slap across the face.

Edward's a mess, really?

I look at the picture, his arm wrapped round a beautiful, stunning, strawberry blonde. No doubt a vampire, she looks too good to not be. Maybe another movie actress?

The headline reads, Hollywood's heartthrob, Edward Cullen and stunning seductress, Ms. Tanya Denali.

I feel my stomach roll. I'd sent him away, I'd told him I didn't want him and now he's got someone else. I feel physically sick. How could he do that so easily? It must mean our mating is weak. How else could this have happened?

Leaving me hung up upon him for weeks.

"Who is she?" I don't recognise the name, but that doesn't mean much for me.

"Tanya Denali."

That wasn't obvious.

"Hollywood's most elite actress."

I stare in horror.

My mouth falling open a little, I feel as though somebody has just knocked the wind out of me.

I could never compete to those standards, never, ever. Not that I need to compete, as Edward and I aren't anything. Anything at all. So why is it that I still can't help but compare myself to her? Why is it that when I do, it makes me feel small and infantile? I'm a nobody, and she's everything. I could never compete.

"Bella."

Ang's voice sounds far off, far away.

"What?"

"Finally. Where did you go?"

"Nowhere."

Something inside of me clicks, so I march over to the kitchen side, pull open a draw and take the scissors and cellophane. Then I pull the magazine from Ang's hands, cut out the smug picture of Tanya and tape it up to the wall.

I march back over to the kitchen side, dragging open a drawer in my rage, and pull out the biggest, sharpest knife I can find. Turning around, I feel anger now replacing the hurt that had been bubbling up inside of me.

"Bella."

Ang's voice is riddled with panic, but I block her out. My focus on the bitch before me.

I glare at the bitch. Her golden eyes shining out and locking with my own. I wish they were red; it would make it even more satisfying to hate her.

I scream and throw the knife. It flies through the air and I feel the anger dissipate from my body. The knife lands square between her eyes .

I've never been an accurate shot, but I felt something trigger deep inside of me when I saw her picture and I knew the knife couldn't miss.

I feel my shoulders sag and I shuffle over to the chair opposite Ang. I drop down into the chair, allowing my head to drop to the table. I take a peak at Ang.

Her eyes are wide, with a mixture of emotions playing across her face, shock, fear, amusement, confusion.

"Bella! You just threw a god damn knife into a picture of Tanya Denali that you stuck to the wall. What are you thinking?" She raises her hands slightly, before letting them drop gently onto the table without making a sound.

Exasperation.

Anybody angry would bang them on the table, but it's not in Ang's nature. She wouldn't hurt a fly. She's just scared, I can see it in her eyes amongst the concern and worry about me.

"I don't know." I hear the edge of hysteria in my voice and I look up to Ang.

She rushes around to me, and drags me into the comfort of her arms.

"Bella. Bella. Bella." She shakes her head and it makes me chuckle, despite the moment.

"What's happening to me, Ang?" I cry, feeling like I no longer have control over my body. The emotions swirling inside of me, feeling entirely foreign and extremely daunting.

"Bella, I think it's the mating." Her voice is so quiet, I can't be sure that I heard her correctly.

"No." I pull back from her in horror.

"It doesn't exist. We said we wouldn't have the mating, wouldn't be together." I feel my body shake and quiver.

Her eyes are sad, almost apologetic.

"Bella, honey, you can't stop the mating just because you want to. It doesn't work like that. Edward is giving you time to readjust until you're ready."

"Until I'm ready? So he can go fuck some slut from Hollywood, and when I'm 'ready' I should welcome him back with open arms? Is that what you're saying, Angela? Because according to Emmett, he's very messed up, and he totally looks it." I growl and point to the wall.

The knife still firmly established between her eyes. The satisfaction in seeing that alone calms me down and I realise I've yelled at my best friend. One of my only friends. Angela gasps at my crudeness.

"Emmett?"

"Oh, Ang. I'm sorry. I don't know what's happening to me. Long story, just some guy Edward asked to watch over me." I drop back onto the chair again as Angela strokes my cheek with her hand. It sends soothing waves of comfort through my body.

"I think you're jealous, Bella."

Jealous? Me?

How can I be jealous when I don't even feel anything for Edward?

I sigh. It's not true, I do feel something. I felt from the very first moment I ordered him away, and it hurts. I'm stupid about how much it hurts.

I feel the draw and everything in me screams to go to him and yet my head screams to run away. Just never stop running. I can't tell what my heart wants, so it's impossible to know what to do.

I'd been stupid to think I could survive without him. Everything I read, everything I've seen and everything I know indicates mating is for life, and you can't control it, only go with it. Allow it to consume you and fill you to the brink.

I hate to give in, to follow a path set for me by somebody bigger and more powerful. I've never fit totally into my life now, I've always felt like I was wandering aimlessly. Why should it be any different with mating? Why should it be different if I stop fighting?

I don't think I can face any more hurt in my life and how can Edward not bring that?

When I met Jake and Ang, they made me feel more at home. They felt safe and friendly. Yet, I never felt like I truly fit. It's why I hate this, that I've been thrust into something. It might make me seem ungrateful, since most people would be happy to finally have a purpose, but spending so long without an idea of what was going to happen and now, having something … It scares me. So much about this scares me.

"I'm jealous."

I mutter the word, tasting the bitterness on my tongue. My eyes dart to the picture stuck to the wall and I feel the feeling, the one I'd felt before when I'd seen the picture rush through me.

I look over to Ang for my answers.

"What do I do?"

"You talk to Edward."

She says like it's the simplest thing in the world, like it's so easy. It can never be easy.

"But ... I don't know if I ... l ... like him."

She shakes her head again and laughs at me.

"Come with me, Bella." She grabs my hand without waiting for my answer. Pulling me from the kitchen and down towards my room, where she bustles in with a complete air of authority and seniority.

She shifts through all my piles of rubbish until she comes across a white, transparent, and rather large storage box, which I had stuffed beneath my bed. One that I'd believed she knew nothing about. She slides is out, winks at me, and I feel the panic in me bubble up to the surface.

"You can't hide anything from me. Especially not your — well I was going to say little but … it isn't really little, so I should say bigbox of Cullen goodies." She giggles.

"Ang!"

I feel utterly horrified as the mortification sets in. Now is one of those moments in which I wish the ground could swallow me up whole.

She pulls open the top of the lid of the box, which is half full with magazines, DVDs, the odd book and other amounts of collectible items.

She tips the box on my bed.

"So you don't know how you feel about a certain Mr. Cullen? You just like to gaze at his pictures and collect lots of things on him, like a mug?"

Angela lifts up the mug and bursts into laughter. I bring my hands to cover my face.

"I don't know why I did it. It just happened, I couldn't help myself." I protest before dropping onto the bed beside Ang and running my hand over all the objects on the bed in a rather affectionate manner.

"Does this mean we can get a TV now?" She looks at me with a hope shining clear in her eyes as she lifts up several of the DVDs.

"What?"

"Well with your addiction to a certain Mr. Cullen in addition to your science fiction collection, it might be wise to get a television for you to watch them both." She giggles.

"But you already have a TV?"

"Yeah, but we need a big one in the living room. Makes it more homely and we can have Cullen movie nights."

I roll my eyes at her antics.

"I'm not paying the cable thing."

"I'll take that as a yes, and we have one already, and I pay for that, so it's no extra cost for me."

"How stupid of me." I give her a half hearted glare.

"Indeed." She giggles and hugs me.

I feel a little more relaxed, but I turn my attention back to the pile of Edward collectibles before me.

My hand lingers on the picture of Edward, and he's standing, holding an Oscar and looking incredibly handsome in his black Tuxedo, which fits snugly against his body. It shows his defined abs through the shirt, and makes me feel all warm and flustered inside.

He's famous and stunningly gorgeous, where I am plain and simple. I'm so far from the limelight, it's unreal. I don't know how we can possibly be put together in this world.

I've either done something really good to be given this "path of destiny" or he's done something really bad to be stuck with somebody as boring as me. I almost feel sorry for him.

"Bella, he's your mate. It's obvious you miss him, and you've been a right moody cow the past few weeks since you sent him off. I think you're thinking straight now. Just do what feels right in here." She places her hand over my heart and I bring my hand to meet hers.

"Sometimes we don't always have to listen to what's in here as it blocks out what we truly want with stupid reasons." She places her other hand gently against my head and smiles.

"I don't know what it's saying, Ang and it scares me."

I let out a sob and she holds me.

"I know, Bella, but it won't be any easier unless you build up the courage to speak to him. Now, before I have to go find him and drag him here myself or fly your butt up there. Speak to him. He said you'd know how and I'm sure you do. I'll go sort out the kitchen."

She moves to get up with a shake of her head.

"Ang." I stop her with a restraining hand.

"Can you leave that photo there?"

She turns to me and raises and eyebrow.

"It makes me feel better to see her face with the umm ... knife in." I mutter.

"Oh, Bella. Of course, but it's coming down eventually. I don't like having knives in my walls." She laughs and I drop her hand.

I watch her as she makes her way out of her room, smiling and making gestures for me to pull my act together and try to contact Edward.

I nod once and watch as she gently pulls shut the door behind her.

I sigh. The paranormal is never easy and neither is life.

I look down at the bracelet attached to my wrist and suddenly I feel very, very stupid.

"Well, here goes nothing."

I bring my wrist up to eye level and stare at the bracelet.

"Edward." I feel like a total idiot as I whisper to the bracelet.

"Edward, can you hear me?" I say it again.

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

I drop my wrist feeling slightly defeated but my stomach twinges, making me think to try one last time.

I shouldn't give in so easily.

"Edward—"god this is stupid"—but if you can hear me, Edward, well, umm ... I think umm ... we might need to talk as I've been a little hasty. I know you have your movie, and you're probably all loved up with T-Tanya, but I ... we need to talk. If you somehow, actually get this message as I'm sitting here, feeling like an idiot, talking to my bracelet, well, I guess something in me kind of maybe, could have missed you and actually wants to see you. So if you do hear this, can you call me, I can give you my number." I say and reel it off. "Well I guess that was wise, giving you my number, but well, yeah, I don't know what to say. Angela put me up to this, so if you get this call me, drop by, anytime."

I finish off my little message, staring at the bracelet and feeling like an utter idiot. It doesn't make a sound. Doesn't glow like something magical or produce a hologram of Edward in the air or even talk back to me.

I flop back onto the bed, feeling utterly exhausted after fighting for my life, finding out I have a "protector", throwing a knife at a photo of an utter bitch who I don't even know — she's just trying to steal my man. And then realising I'm an utter idiot for sending Edward away. Then I have to comprehend all over again that I'm an utter idiot for talking to a bracelet. It's just a bracelet.

A vampire may have given me that bracelet and Emmett did say use the bracelet, or at least I think he did. Although I could have been so much in shock that I imagined the whole thing. I groan as I clutch the bed covers in my hands.

I guess I've read too many books and seen too many science-fiction films to actually understand what is real and what's not in the realms of the universe and talking bracelets don't really seem to fit into a realm. After all, we can only have so much supernatural, scary stuff in the world, and I think vampires cover that completely. I mean, we still haven't invented time travel, or managed to move further than the moon in space travel so, talking bracelets do not really seem achievable.

I stare for a few more minutes at the bracelet and feel nothing "special" happen.

Perhaps the vampires make special voodoo bracelets. Who am I kidding?

I've finally cracked. I let out a rather hysterical laugh and sit up, rubbing my face in frustration.

"God, what were you hoping for, a magic bracelet to talk to Edward like a mobile phone? Such a simple modern way of communicating. What idiot decided that we couldn't share mobile numbers?" I grumble.

Then I realise that idiot was most likely me, as I kicked Edward out. Told him I never wanted to see him again and basically said I didn't need him and here I am, moping around after the same guy, I so carelessly threw away.

He's with Tanya now, it's not like he needs me.

I kick at the shelf before me and grumble a few profanities after stubbing my toe. It hurts so bad when that happens, especially since I caught my toe on the edge so that it split the other way from all the other toes and makes that horrible crunching sound as if I've pulled it from a socket.

I stand up and moan, hopping slightly on the one foot in pain.

I hobble into the living room to see Ang crashed on the couch with one of her trashy magazines. The thought alone makes me chuckle as I look back at mybed, still covered in trashy magazines.

I guess some of us just have unfulfilled urges and mine come in the form of Edward Cullen.

But one has to admit, he is entirely gorgeous. Some might say sex on legs. 

I freeze mid-step. I just called Edward "sex on legs". Never before have I labelled a guy "sex on legs". Admittedly, my sexual history isn't anything to shout about. It amounted to a horrible fumble after prom with Mike Newton, which really left me worse for wear in many ways.

I shudder at the thought.

I think the local nun gets more action than me, which is highly horrifying.

"Alright, Bella?"

Ang frowns at me and I realise I'm still stood in the middle of the living room.

"Yeah, fine." I mutter, hobbling to the other sofa which Sam is sprawled across. I feel utterly depressed. My attempts to contact "sex on legs" have failed miserably and I've realised I have an utterly sad life, with no exciting sex to talk about – not that this entirely bothers me.

It makes me wonder if I secretly stack up on steamy romance novels for a reason. I think I'd be horrified if somebody ever found me reading one of those, especially when they make me "excited". Is that the word?

"Bella, stop thinking so hard."

Angela frowns at me.

"What?"

"You'll get grey hairs and frown lines from pinching your face up like that."

I sigh and relax against the couch, although not for long. Maybe twenty minutes later, when I'm just floating between dream and reality state, there is a harsh, loud hammering on our door.

The viciousness in which the door is being hit makes me yelp and jump up in the chair out of fright. It's not too late in the evening, but neither me nor Ang has anybody to speak of who would call at this hour.

"Ang." I look to her from my helpless position on the couch that I've assumed, Sam cuddling into my side.

"Got it," she yells. She rushes through the living room, and I'm glad she has, since I don't think I could truly make it that far.

She gets to the door and begins sliding off all the locks without even looking in the peep hole. Is she stupid? Does she have a death wish.

She swings open the door with a smile on her face, which quickly slides.

"Oh, my!" I wonder who could be at the door. Surely not … it couldn't be.

I see something move and she steps back. Her face pale and her mouth frozen agape. That really can't be good. I watch as two figures walk through the door, both faces strained with anger and something else that I can't quite read.

I clutch at Sam, feeling my heart stutter in my chest ...


End file.
